And Time Again
by Scutter
Summary: A postgame fic. Chapter 9 now up. 'In the split second that it took Rinoa’s refusal to register, Squall thanked the gods once again for his ability to appear utterly and completely indifferent.'
1. Chapter 1

And Time Again

By fic is a post-game fic. Yes, it contains Rinoa, but don't worry, I'm not nice to her. All is not as it seems to be... And I've taken a liberty or two with Zell's character. He's still hyperactive Zell, he's just a tad more...serious? grown up? Well, you'll see what I mean.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 8. For goodness sake, I'm 25 and I still live with my parents. How pathetic can you get?

Rated M.

Author's Note: This is not the complete story. Random chunks will be removed because they do not comply with FFnet's rating policies. If you wish to read the full, unedited story, rated NC17, please refer to my homepage at and follow the links. Chapter 1 has not been edited.

Chapter 1

"Where are you going?"

Squall automatically stilled the momentary flash of anger. Rinoa. At his elbow. Again.

"Field mission." He let the silence resume for a beat, then forced himself to continue, buying her blessed silence for a few more moments with his words. "Me and Zell. Border skirmish in Dollet. Again." The last word was flavoured with a hint of irritation, tidbits of himself thrown down so that she would think he had told her something extra. Something not just about the mission, but about how he felt. Strange. If she had actually understood anything about the way he felt...

Not like he had been subtle about it, after all. All but telling her to keep her paws to herself, back in the Ragnarok. Okay, so it was probably a damned fool thing to have done, rushing off to rescue her from the Sorceress Memorial. Nothing like giving a girl mixed signals... Maybe it would be simpler, in the end, to tell her it was none of her damned business, watch her have a temper tantrum, then watch her walk away.

Then if nothing else, he would be free to walk... into...

To distract himself, Squall reached down and strapped Lionheart firmly to his hip. Then, because she expected it, he leaned across and kissed her. The kiss was brief. SeeD ran to a tight schedule – one of the small facts they both knew, and understood. And on impulse – one of the ones Squall sometimes had, and cursed himself for later, he slid his gloved fingers through her hair. Saying without saying, really. A touch that meant 'I'll miss you'. It was easier to lie to her with his body than with his mouth. "Bye, Rinoa."

She smiled back at her boyfriend, her friend, her lover and her hero. "Bye Squall. Be careful."

Once outside his quarters, Squall waited for the door to slide shut before he gave in to the urge to wipe his mouth.

Zell was already in the parking lot when Squall arrived. Shadow boxing. Already burning along the rise of adrenaline that would keep their battle reflexes on a knife edge for the next few days. There was a fiery heat in his eyes that stirred a matching battle lust in Squall.

"Ready to kick some ass?" One gloved fist was slammed into Zell's open palm. Restless. Wired for a fight.

Squall met his challenging gaze and felt his pulse kick. "It's what we live for." Deadpan, the words held more passion than anything else Squall had spoken all day. "Let's go."

As they headed for the car that would take them to Balamb, Zell watched the silver magic that trickled over Squall, a sure sign he had just activated his junctions. And then, as the glow faded from his Commander's skin, he noticed something else...

"You've got lipstick on your cheek."

"Fuck..." Squall reached instantly for the place Rinoa had last kissed him, eradicating the pale pink smudge with more enthusiasm than was strictly required.

Zell snorted. "Don't see why it bothers you so much," he threw over his shoulder, as he ducked into the car. "Not like we don't already know what's going on."

That pulled Squall up. Just for a second, but it was enough. It was hard not to sigh.

It was harder to get into the car, and shut his mouth, ignoring the implication that just because they heard the moans of physical release behind closed doors of an evening, people had the right to assume that Squall and Rinoa had some romantic paradise going on. It would be tempting, if Squall were the type to do such things, to tell Zell just how wrong he was and wipe that infuriating smirk off the martial artist's lips. But Squall's silence, his absolute reluctance to talk about personal issues was more deeply ingrained than the need to air such grievances. It was easier, in the end, to keep his mouth shut, and ignore the accidental barbs.

The trip to Balamb was passed in silence.

The border between Dollet and Timber lay a good day's walk from Dollet's edge, with the current skirmish taking place in a densely forested section of coast line. Despite having set a lively pace, the sun was beginning to set by the time they had covered half the distance. In different circumstances, Squall might have made the decision to keep walking all night – they knew the landscape reasonably well, and could defend themselves against any local nasties – even in the dark – without raising a sweat. But once they reached the battle field tomorrow, they would need all their energy for fighting, so as the last of the suns rays were disappearing behind the massive cliffs that spread across the region, Squall changed his path, heading sightly westwards, rather then the south east course they had been following.

"Time to make camp," he explained lightly, at Zell's questioning look.

"Recon we can rustle us up a meal?" Zell asked, throwing in a bounce or two and some air punches to make the point. SeeD provided field rations for missions, but as they both knew, they tasted like meat-flavoured saw-dust. On a good day. "There are geezards round here, aren't there? We could get ourselves a couple of steaks, have a camp fire. Go to bed feeling like we've eaten real food?" he pressed, when his commander didn't immediately reply.

Squall hesitated, and bought himself a moment by glancing around for a suitable campsite. It wasn't that he wanted to eat their travel rations any more than Zell did, but... there was something about having a cook-out around a fire with Zell that made him feel... cozy. Squall couldn't even remember the last time he had felt cozy about anything, and the unexpected flush of warmth that it created quickly led to an uneasiness that he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with just now. "If we find a place to pitch the tent before it's dark, we can go hunting," he said finally, wondering whether he had just tempted whatever fate he was trying to avoid with the weak compromise. Since when had he been anything other than bluntly decisive? With any luck, Zell wouldn't notice the unusual abdication of control.

"No problem, babe. One luxurious camp site coming up."

Finding a place to lie down and sleep, defenceless in the middle of the wilderness, however, was easier said than done. Finally, a stand of trees beneath the cliffs offered itself as a likely spot, as defencible as any if they were to be attacked tonight, and relatively free of rocky debris. SeeDs were trained to sleep just about anywhere, but even then, if given a choice, it would be stupid not to pick a grassy knoll over a gravel pit. Squall swung the pack off his back, and fished out the lightweight standard issue tent. It took only minutes to set up, by which time Zell had thrown together a small pile of firewood and kindling, and was bouncing on his toes, junctions locked in, ready to kick some of the local wildlife into next week.

Squall managed his preparations with slightly less exuberance, then unsheathed Lionheart. Without a word between them, they headed out of the trees and across the grassy fields.

Squall wiped the blood off Lionheart nonchalantly as Zell gingerly hefted the severed geezard leg they had so recently acquired. "Oh dude, that is gross..." Squall raised an eyebrow at his companion, who was skirting around a sizeable pool of blood. "That must have sprayed at least twelve feet," he grumbled, peering at the blood spatter covering the grass.

"That's what happens when they get their heads cut off," he muttered, stowing his cleaning rag and resheathing Lionheart.

"I know, but I never noticed before. I mean, we were sort of in the habit of beating the crap out of them, then running away, not standing around looking at the debris." Finally getting a grip on the blood-smeared limb that would become their dinner, he glanced at the end of it, where Lionheart had sliced cleanly through muscle, bone, sinew and two layers of thick, protective scales. "Dude, remind me not to pick a fight with you. Ever. That is one seriously sharp toy."

"No one was forcing you to look at the debris," Squall suggested blandly, still a topic behind as he started heading back to camp. "It's getting dark, Zell," he called, when he noticed his team mate wasn't with him.

"Totally gross..." Zell filled in, as he hurried to catch up.

He had been right the first time, Squall thought ruefully, later that night. A camp fire with Zell had been a bad idea. Just then, the breeze brought a waft of the roasting meat his way, and Squall's stomach growled loudly. Deliberately, he ignored the chuckle from the other side of the fireplace. Another five minutes, and the meat would be done. He glanced up at his companion again, surreptitiously noticing the way the firelight turned Zell's skin a pale bronze colour, his tattoo an inky scrawl as dark as the night sky above them. There had to be something wrong with him, Squall told himself firmly. Maybe the stress was finally getting to him. Why else would he be ogling his team mate – his _male_ teammate, no less, someone he had known either as a platonic friend or an annoying irritiation for most of his life? Another glance was stolen in Zell's direction. He was sitting cross-legged, his athletic legs tucked beneath him, his muscular forearms resting against his knees as he watched the fire with the same intent focus he had for everything. Squall could even see the light dusting of hairs on his arms in the golden light.

People often dismissed Zell as erratic or disorganised because of the way he seemed to be in constant motion. After so many months of working side by side with him, Squall now knew better. As a martial artist, Zell had honed his concentration to an intense focus. He simply burned a heck of a lot of energy in a day, and if he wasn't given an outlet for that energy, it had to be released as physical excersion. But give him a mission or assignment, and Zell would tackle it with a single-minded dedication. Having used up most of his day's quota on hauling his ass halfway across the continent, Zell was now perfectly happy to stare at the fire, until he deemed the meat was cooked to perfection. It was hard to even see him breathing, he sat so still...

He was, Squall admitted to his own confusion, a beautiful work of art. The fire gave a hiss and a pop, and Zell rolled gracefully forward onto his feet, grasping the wooden stakes to lift the meat off the fire. "Time to dig in, baby. You dinner is served." Grabbing his meal kit, he carved off a sizeable chunk for himself, and by the time he had settled himself down again, Squall had recovered his sense of perspective, and moved to get his own. Hyne knew what Zell would think if he caught Squall staring at him like that...

The sky was a brilliant canopy of stars, now that the fire had been put out, and Squall took the time to admire it, before he followed Zell into the tent. The shelter was small, but since it was designed to house three people in cramped awkwardness, it allowed just the two of them to lie down in relative comfort. Even so, they were close enough that Squall could feel the warmth of Zell's breath, in contrast to the cold night air.

Tucked into his sleeping roll, Zell resembled a spikey-headed caterpillar, huddled as he was against the chill. Squall, on the other hand, was resting his head on his hand, elbow crooked against the hard ground. He looked deceptively relaxed, but Lionheart lay inches from his side, and could be executed from there with frightening speed. He snapped on a small self-charging torch, which gave them just enough light to see each other.

"Mission brief?" Squall offered succinctly, now their stomachs were full and nightly preparations – abreviated as they were out here – had been completed.

"Ready and waiting, baby," Zell murmured from his sleeping bag cocoon. "What I've got so far is that Dollet and Timber are fighting again, and we've been employed by the Dollet side of the fence to call a truce."

"To enforce a truce, more like," Squall amended. 'Truce' negotiations more often consisted of beating the crap out of the more beligerent side until they agreed to some international legal process. "This time, Dollet and Timber are fighting over some pathetic scrap of land that they both think they own." Zell raised an eyebrow, and Squall took the time to notice that it resembled an expression he himself used from time to time. Then he obligingly filled in the messy details. "Before the last Sorceress war, Timber used to use the land as grazing pasture. Then after the Lunar Cry, Dollet moved in with military installments, mainly because they needed the space to maintain their army, but with the minor excuse of doing everyone a favour by clearing out the monsters. Now, Timber wants it back because it was theirs in the first place, and Dollet thinks someone owes them something because they put in the hard work of cleaning it up."

Zell made a non-commital sound. "Do we know who's right?"

Squall shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Dollet wants to take the matter to the International Council, but Timber wants to keep making their point with their swords and guns, so effectively all we're doing is proving to Timber that Dollet has the military muscle to take them to court. Who's right will be decided by the Council, not by Garden."

Zell considered that for a moment. "If Timber can prove it legally owns the land, I would have thought it was a fairly straightforward case. So why wouldn't Timber just go to court, do their thing and move on?"

"It's not that simple. 'Course, it never is, is it?" Squall muttered wryly. "Before the Lunar Cry, there were Timber Nationals living there. If they were still there, it would be an open and shut case – they're using the land, so it's theirs. But they were killed by the monsters..."

"No surprises there," Zell muttered quietly.

"...which means Dollet is claiming it as uninhabited land, and Timber is claiming it as a right of inheritance. Just to make things interesting, the original owner didn't have any direct living relatives when he died, so it's supposed to belong to his cousin's daughter's best friend's uncle's dog, or something vaguely equivalent." Squall was aware, from an internal distance, that he wasn't usually this verbose. More often, he would state the bare facts with impatient efficiency and leave the dry humour out of it. There was something about Zell, though, that made talking... not so much easier, as less difficult. It was somehow related to the warm, comfortable feeling he had been having all evening, Squall knew, and in an internal protest to the strange new emotions, he reconsidered his next words, and lapsed into silence.

It took Zell a moment to figure out that Squall had finished talking. "So are we on the offensive, or the defensive tomorrow, then?" he asked finally, well practiced by now at taking Squall's turns of mood in his stride. They'd been fighting side by side ever since they escaped from the Desert Prison – barring only the slight digression of Squall's trip into outer space – and what had once driven him mad with frustration he could now deal with with a fond amusement.

"Offensive." It was all about how many casualties they were allowed to cause. A defensive line would have meant protecting their own troops and holding ground. An offensive line, on the other hand, meant kicking some serious butt. "Be ready to pull back, though, as soon as we've made our point. Dollet wants there to be enough of Timber left to actually take them to court. It wouldn't do to annihilate them all." There it was again, that dry humour that only Zell had ever inspired in him. Even Rinoa couldn't get past the icy shield of indifference he usually lived behind.

Zell chuckled, and Squall found himself amazed at the tingle of nerves that the sound inspired down his spine. Had he never noticed before the deep, even timbre of his voice? And why the hell was he noticing it now? He shifted uncomfortably in his sleeping roll.

Zell watched Squall squirm. Something about him had been off all evening. To someone as used to watching both his prey and his enemies as closely as Zell did, the subtle changes in behaviour stood out like beacons. What was not so obvious was the reason behind them. Though he had talked more than usual, Squall didn't seem any warmer towards him. Though he had switched mood several times, he lacked the usual bitterness that went with his mood swings. Twice, he had been about to say something, a dark sadness in his eyes, and twice, he had changed his mind. He wasn't angry, he wasn't irritated. He was, if Zell could put a name to it, like a kid waiting to be punished for something he didn't do.

"How does Rinoa feel about us fighting against Timber?" Zell had thought about the question before he asked it, but even so, he cringed at the blunt tactlessness of the words.

Squall lay back against the hard ground. "I didn't tell her."

There was a rustle beside him, and Squall glanced over at Zell, to find him sitting halfway up, an expression of surprised concern on his face. "You didn't tell her?"

Again, the choice. He could tell Zell that he hadn't wanted to hear the inevitable tatrum about injustice and disloyalty from Rinoa. Or he could make up some crap about not hurting her feelings. "...SeeD... is a mercenary organisation. We work for the highest bidder – and yes, I would turn down a job that involved horrific injustices or trampled on human rights, so don't panic..." After the sorceress war, most of SeeD had been forced to question their loyalties and the choices they made between their employer, and their conscience. "...but we have no specific loyalty to Timber over any other nation. Rinoa still does. And she and I can argue about it all day, but we're not going to understand each other any better at the end of it."

"So you sweep it under the rug?"

"Whatever..." His tone was coldly dismissive, and Zell ignored it.

"She's going to find out sooner or later."

Squall had switched off the torch soon after the sudden change of topic, and Zell heard him sigh in the darkness. There was a pause, in which there was only the sound of Squall's slightly irregular breathing. And then Zell heard the rough break in his voice as he replied. "And when she does, I'll get the priviledge of listening to her whinge about the rest of the world not fighting on her side of her own private little war, but for all I care, until she does, she can wade about in her own blissfully ignorant self-absorbed world."

Yes, self-charging torches do exist! I have one! It has a magnet and coil of wire in it and if you shake it, the magnet moves and creates an electric current, which is stored in a battery, which powers the torch! It gives off a tiny little bit of light, but it's enough to fall down the stairs or burn yourself in the kitchen with it.

No, Squall isn't homophobic, so don't get narky on me. He's just... taken by surprise. He's an introverted guy who's got his first ever girlfriend, and suddenly finds himself having feelings for his best male friend. Wouldn't that surprise you? As you've probably worked out, the initial pairing for this fic is SquallxRinoa. But don't get upset. Like I said, I'm not going to be nice to her.

Feedback is craved, as always. Please also visit my homepage 


	2. Chapter 2

And Time Again

By fic is a post-game fic. Yes, it contains Rinoa, but don't worry, I'm not nice to her. All is not as it seems to be... And I've taken a liberty or two with Zell's character. He's still hyperactive Zell, he's just a tad more serious than he is in the game.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 8. I have no money for things I actually need because I keep buying books to read. Help?

Rated M. Short chapter here.

Oh how I hate Their computer system changed my formatting so my story looks like a great big slab of text running on and on with itself rather than the neat sections its supposed to be. Just little things, but irritiating, y'know? This version of the fic is based on my personal playing of the game, in which I use Rinoa as little as possible as one of my characters. If you played a different way, don't blame me, I didn't make you do it.

Chapter 2 

It was the first time Squall had ever spoken about Rinoa like that, and he lay in the darkness, wondering, waiting for Zell's indignant reply.

The silence stretched on. Finally, tired of staring at the ceiling, Squall looked sideways. Zell was watching him, still propped up on his elbow, as if by shere force of will, he could dissect the pieces of Squall's mind. Finally, he blinked, and lay back. But there was no sigh, no murmur of agreement or disapproval. There was just the quiet watchfullness that Squall had often wondered about, but had been too afraid to ask.

"You want to talk about it?" Zell offered finally, his voice smooth and even.

"No." The reply was immediate. Why would he want to talk about it? Not like it would change anything. They had all formed their own opinions about his and Rinoa's relationship anyway. Even Zell, making a copy of his ring, conspiring with Rinoa behind his back. Whatever he said now, it would be viewed through someone else's distorted perceptions. Why bother?

People had always expected him and Rinoa to get together. Always? No, it hadn't been like that right from the beginning. So when had it started? By the time he had rescued her from space, Rinoa had clearly already got designs on him. Saved by a long-forgotten ship, with 30 seconds of oxygen to go, and about to be let loose into a ship full of monsters, she had decided she wanted a hug. Okay, even Squall would admit he could be dense sometimes, but he hadn't missed the hints that time. He had just ignored it with a bloody-minded indifference. There must have been clues before that.

Of course, most of the gang had probably figured it out when he had walked her across the railroad bridge. But Rinoa had been unconscious all through that episode, so her own ideas, at least, had to have been formed before then.

Trabia Garden, maybe? Rinoa's little speech about feeling left out, and wanting to fight with them? Maybe that had been the big clue? Maybe he should have been paying more attention – but of course, at the time, Squall had been thinking about Matron and the sorceresses and the weight of the world on his shoulders, so a naive girl with an inferiority complex had seemed like a secondary issue.

Why had people expected it? They were nothing alike. Rinoa didn't understand him, could hardly tolerate his darker moods, was constantly trying to protect him from the career he had chosen. And to be fair, he didn't understand her any better. Her inability to look at circumstances around her and see them for what they were. The optimism irritated him. The cheerfullness made him want to rip his own innards out with his gunblade.

But he had rescued her from the Sorceress Memorial. Ah, that must be it then. He hadn't wanted her to spend eternity in a living hell, trapped in a paramagical coffin, so it must be true love...

Whatever...

Follow that up by dragging her kicking and screaming – literally – across the island closest to hell, in order to force her stats up, then get her sucked into a time vortex, and they were clearly destined for each other - oh, he had rescued her from Adel and Seifer in between, of course. Mustn't forget the rescuing.

And then he had kissed her. In the darkness of the tent, Squall held his breath, as he tried to work that idea through. He had kissed her, outside the hall, after the celebrations. Well that definately complicated things.

He still wasn't sure why he had done that. It wasn't like people had expected it, at that point. He could have gone on being a cold, indifferent bastard, and no one would have made a fuss. Least of all Rinoa. He had taken her hand, pulled her in towards him. He had been the one to stare into her eyes and tilt her chin. Couldn't blame her for that one.

But why had he done it?

Maybe... maybe he had just wanted to know, finally, what it was like. To be that close to another human being. Maybe, after all that had happened, he had still held out some vague hope that she would see him for what he was, and accept it, and maybe even like it. He had been deluding himself, he could see that now, but at the time, it had been a rare reward dangled before him, for all that they had been through, and he had been weak enough to risk reaching for it, unaware that having gotten a grip, he would be utterly unable to let it go.

He had figured out real quickly after that that he wasn't into girls. The clues had been there – Quistis, pretty, intellectual and reserved, hadn't been able to entice him at all. Rinoa, on the 'Rok, even after she had sat on his lap, hadn't stirred his physical desires. That should have told him something, Squall realised now, listening to Zell breathe in the sleeping bag next to him. Rinoa wasn't some blushing virgin – she knew how to do sexy, and she'd done it to him for all she was worth. But that night, kissing her on the balcony, all he had been able to think about was how her breasts got in the way slightly, and how she was soft in places that he wished she was hard.

And then Irvine had appeared, arm around Selphie and handed them both a champagne. And the charade had begun. Caught out at the end of a kiss with a girl he was supposed to like, he'd had little hope of explaining it away, even if he'd had the presence of mind to try.

She had asked him back to her room that night, Squall remembered with a flash of distaste. He had begged off with the excuse of being tired. Disappointment had settled unexpectedly in her eyes, and he had understood for the first time how badly she had misunderstood him. He should have told her then.

Except that at that point, he hadn't even figured it out himself, still not aware of his deeply buried desires, and only vaguely aware of the other warm body in the room that he would have been willing to sleep with, had the opportunity presented itself. So he had quietly explained that...

"Rinoa, I... I'm flattered. But... I'm still just figuring out that we're all still alive, and the world hasn't ended, and... about Laguna. Which is a complete mind-fuck all by itself. And I'm really, really tired..."

He should have gone with something less subtle. Like 'piss off you bloody leech, what part of no don't you understand?'

It couldn't go on. Sooner or later, something would have to give. Zell's deepened breath told him that he was now asleep, though Squall knew he could be roused and on his feet in an instant. There was no point thinking about it any more now. He had to get some sleep himself, or he'd be a wreck in the battle tomorrow. With the discipline of mind that came from years of hard training, Squall managed to quiet his own restless thoughts, and soon, he was breathing evenly and deeply.

First review! First review! Thank you Jenihenpen! Somehow I have trouble putting the words 'Squall' and 'sunshine' in the same sentence... And thank you, Vitreous Mistress, for the second review!

Feedback is always appreciated. If you like, you can flame me. I shall ignore it, but if it makes you feel better...


	3. Chapter 3

And Time Again

By I don't own Final Fantasy 8.

Rated M. **This chapter has been chopped in half, because the second half contained adult material. If you wish to read the original NC17 rated version, please visit my website. See my profile page for the address.**

If you haven't worked it out by now, this fic is much more of a wander through various people's minds and emotional states than it is about action and magical junctions and stuff. I had trouble writing this until I figured out that I was trying to write something that my readers would appreciate. Now I'm just writing for myself, with the vague hope some of you might like it accidentally. And yes, this kind of emotional bleeding is exhausting, which is why the chapters are shorter than usual.

Chapter 3

Squall slid out of the car after Zell, amused at himself as he relished the smell of the air in Balamb Garden's parking lot. Despite the lingering scent of diesel and grease, there was something about coming home. Automatically, he reached back into the car, shouldering the pack that he had dragged halfway across the Dolletian countryside. It would be unpacked, inventoried, cleaned and restocked by the supplies crew, but fully loaded, anyone but a SeeD would have trouble lifting it. SeeD usually did the crews a favour by taking the packs back to the training center themselves.

The sound of female footware on the concrete floor warned him of the impending intrusion long before it happened. SeeD, and most of Garden's students, prefered the soundless rubber soles of combat boots, albeit at the price of fashion. "How did the mission go?" Turning to answer the question, Squall suddenly found Rinoa's lips plastered over his own, and he wondered briefly why she bothered asking if she was so determined to smother him with her tonsils. Squall watched, from his usual mental distance, as she had trouble working out how to hug him, now that the bulky mission pack was hanging over his shoulder. Screw her dignity. He wasn't moving it for her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zell smirk at him, and realised, as Rinoa finally allowed him to breathe, that he was looking more than a little amused himself.

"You look like you're in a good mood," Rinoa murmured, as she smiled up at him. "It went well, did it?"

He allowed the ghosting smile to linger, ignoring the question momentarily to follow Zell with his eyes. "Mission debrief at oh-eight-hundred," he said softly, when the martial artist glanced at him.

Zell returned a look that was knowing, and sympathetic. "I'll be there with bells on," he answered with a wry edge to his voice, then added a careless, "Later, babe." Shouldering his own pack, Zell headed for the foyer, leaving Squall with his arms full of an enthusiastic Rinoa.

"A guy thing, is it?" she asked, earning a sceptical frown from her boyfriend.

"What is?"

She grinned. "Just you and Zell. Whenever you get back from a mission you're all humming with energy. And Hyne above, are you actually smiling?"

It wasn't a guy thing. Squall had seen the same battle-rush in Selphie, or Fujin... even in Quistis on occassion, though she was a little more reserved about it. But he didn't try to correct her. Despite her misunderstanding of the situation, she had learnt enough about him to know how he reacted to a mission. And he was almost relieved to see a spark of interest in her eyes.

They would have sex tonight.

Squall always came back from a mission completely wired, and despite the lack of attraction from his side, he would have no trouble getting a rise for her. Hyne, he was 17, male and due to an excess of adrenaline, right now he was a hormonal train-wreck. He was about to tell her that the mission had gone well – they had overcome their enemies, and sent them scattering into the forest. And been paid well for their efforts. And then he remembered that they had been fighting against Timber.

Maybe there wouldn't be sex, after all.

Rinoa's smile faded as she saw the way the fire suddenly left Squall, replaced by a dark dissatisfaction, and she frowned. "Squall?"

Zell had been right. She would find out. And suddenly he could no longer be bothered prevaricating about it. "Rinoa, we..." He stopped, and sighed. "I've got some things you need to know. Just let me drop my pack off, then I'll meet you in my quarters."

Rinoa nodded. "I'll walk with you," she offered.

He could tell her to go to his quarters straight away, but she wouldn't listen. She never did.

Finally, after she had stopped to chat to the supply room staff and exchanged pleasantries with no less than three groups of students, they arrived at Squall's quarters. No sooner were they through the door when... "So what's the problem?" The questioned was asked in a light, up-beat tone.

He considered ignoring her, but sent a tight smile her way instead, while he dissappeared into his bedroom to unstrap Lionheart and empty his pockets of his personal effects. When he came back to the small living room he got to call his own, she had sat down on the sofa, and she patted the seat next to her. "Come and sit down."

He didn't want to sit down. He wanted to pace restlessly around the room. He wanted to be out of arms reach when he told her his news. He ignored her instructions.

"Rinoa, the mission we just did... Dollet hired us to resolve a border dispute for them. They were fighting against Timber, and were worried the skirmish could turn into a small war if it wasn't stopped."

She looked at him quizically, and Squall waited for her to put it together. "You mean you were fighting against Timber?"

He nodded. "That's right." He felt an unsympathetic surge rising within himself, and he tried hard to make his voice sound appologetic, but knew he hadn't quite gotten there.

"Why didn't you tell me before you went?"

He sidestepped the question. He didn't have an answer to it, anyway. "I know you still feel a lot of loyalty towards Timber. And I wanted to... We weren't fighting _against_ them so much as persuading them that they should let the International Council arbitrate for them."

"Do you really think that's going to solve anything? No one wins at Council. They just have to compromise so that everyone gets less than they hoped for. What about their pride, Squall? What about the ideals they were fighting for? That doesn't get considered in a Council session. You should have thought of that before you accepted the mission."

Hmm... girl from country town who joined the war after the half-time bell telling seasoned warrior and strategist which missions he should accept? Interesting concept... "I was thinking about the civilians who would be killed if Timber and Dollet went to war, and the children who would lose their childhoods if they had to watch their homes being burned and looted." He hadn't been. He had been thinking about how much he enjoyed fighting alongside Zell, when they knew each other so well as to be able to predict each other's next moves, and compensate for each other's weaknesses without even thinking about it. But she didn't need to know that.

Rinoa stopped, her mouth already open to argue with him when his words hit home, and she stopped on an indrawn breath. "Oh."

"I understand your point of view, Rinoa. But that doesn't mean I can always agree with it." He was trying to sound sympathetic. Maybe if he did, she would stop bothering him sooner.

She smiled, sadly and wanly. "I know. I know you do your best. I just... I've seen the politics of Timber from the inside, and... it's hard not to empathise with them." He knew. Hyne, since she'd told him thirty times since the war ended, how could he not know? "You know how hard we were trying. Back before the war. It's not the kind of thing I can just let go of."

Squall wondered briefly what he was supposed to say next. She had just confirmed his own reasons for not telling her about the mission, but somehow 'I told you so' seemed... uncouth. "I wasn't deliberately leaving you out of the loop," he said softly, maintaining his stance halfway across the room. "It was just... complicated."

She gave him a sad half-smile. "I know. You were just doing what you thought was best."

Hyne, could she get any more patronising if she tried? She stood up, closing the distance between them. "Thank you for telling me," she whispered, when there was only a few inches left between them. "Thank you for trusting me." He didn't trust her. That's why he hadn't told her before they left. But Squall quickly put the thought out of his mind. That vague spark of physical attraction was back in her eyes, and he allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards. Sex was back on the agenda, after all.

As predicted, Rinoa took the smile to mean something more than it did. "I love you, Squall." She couldn't love him. She didn't know him. "You're the most beautiful person I know..."

Squall let his head drift downwards. He let his lips gently brush over hers, feeling her hand come up to cup the side of his face in the way she always did, the way that really annoyed him. And then she parted her lips and invited him into her mouth, while Squall kissed her forcefully, wondering what it would be like to kiss someone other than her.

An image of Zell sprang to mind, and he nearly bit his own tongue off at the surprise of it. Hyne, what was wrong with him today? Belatedly, he realised that he had jerked away from Rinoa in that split second of alterior motivation, and he caught the tail end of a look of hurt bemusement. He grabbed the first excuse that came to mind. "Sorry. Mind's still on the battle field." He threw in a token troubled frown for good measure.

"Poor baby. I don't know how you do this every day." Baby? The only person who had ever called him baby and lived was Zell. And he had used the term in an entirely different context.

"You make the homecoming worthwhile." He meant it. Sex after a sleep-deprived adrenaline-filled stint on the field was a terrific all-round cure. It made him forget about physical aches and pains, it delayed any concerns about missed meals until morning. And strangely, it also cured him of insomnia, when the beasts of the batte field tried to follow him into sleep. But Rinoa would undoubtedly fill the statement with some romantic blathering, and he wasn't about to stop her. She grinned, and took his hand, throwing a coy smile over her shoulder as she led him into his bedroom.

This section removed due to adult content. Visit my webpage. 

Zell sat on his bed, finishing the last of his nightly stretches before he settled down to meditate. He had pulled a muscle in his neck, ducking out of the way of a round of fast ammo, and after an ice pack and self-administered physiotherapy, it was finally beginning to loosen. Earlier in the evening, he had briefly considered going to see Squall, to ask him to massage it for him. After what seemed like a lifetime of sleeping on hard ground and fighting in battles that pushed them to the limit, they had all learned the art of theraputic massage – and more than once he had only been able to go back into battle because Squall had been willing to sit on him and twist his neck or back into chiropractic submission. He had given up the idea after a moment, though. Squall would be getting naked and sweaty with Rinoa, and might not appreciate an interuption at the wrong moment.

Zell settled down onto the floor, crossing his legs and closing his eyes against the muted light of his lamp. On days like today, he wouldn't have minded his own bed-companion to work off his frustration with. His groin gave a half-hearted twitch at the thought, and Zell deliberately cleared his mind. As it was, the post-battle sexual high would linger until morning. He didn't need to encourage it any more.

Not that Squall was really that much better off than him, though. He'd seen the way his Commander had looked at him in the parking lot. Squall had pretended to be amused, or maybe even turned on, but lurking behind the expression, Zell had seen the shadow of panic, a silent 'save me' designed to be missed by Rinoa.

Unconsciously, Zell's breathing had become deeper, and even, and he automatically went through the mental process of relaxing each muscle group.

Squall had told him, in the end. After the battle had finished, and they were killing time, waiting for the heads of the armies to thrash out the details of their truce. The forest had been littered with blood and body parts, and both desperate to escape the carnage, he and Squall had removed to the edge of the grassy fields.

"Sorry I snapped at you last night." Not one who was often surprised, Zell had found himself rendered speechless by Squall's unexpected appology. Squall was crouched down, balancing himself with his gunblade, still smeared a rusty hue from the battle. Unable to come up with anything intelligent to say, Zell chose to stay quiet. Instead, he gave Squall a thin, sideways glance, an invitation to talk, without any censure, if he chose not to.

"It's not easy to explain," Squall muttered. Zell allowed himself a knowing smirk, and was rewarded with a self-deprecating smile. "She doesn't understand us. And she doesn't listen when I explain it. And I'm getting tired... of trying to live up to her expectations of me."

"You never..." Zell began, then stopped, and reconsidered his words. "I was going to say you've never lived up to her expectations, but that's not it." He exhaled, trying to bring his thoughts into order. "She always expected more than you were offering her. Way back then... we saw it, Squall. All through the war. And yeah, a lot of people wanted it to work out between you two, but it's not because we think you should be something you're not. It's because you of all people probably deserve a little happiness after what you've been through."

"No more than the rest of you do," Squall interrupted, and Zell graciously conceeded the point.

"We're too..." Squall began again, then shook his head. "Sometimes I think she's good for me. She balances me, when we get a little too self-destructive."

"But?" Zell prompted, when he didn't continue.

"But... Do I just want too much?"

Zell shrugged lightly. "That's something you're going to have to figure out for yourself, baby."

Gently, slowly, Zell lifted himself out of the memory. Squall had seemed to want his approval, for his lack of interest in Rinoa, but then he had gotten defensive and resentful when Zell had given it. He didn't have all the pieces yet, but Zell had a feeling that over the next few days or weeks, he'd pick up a lot more of them. And maybe then the picture would begin to make some sense. He let his mind sink further into his meditation. His breathing slowed, and he felt the cool rush of absolute tranquility as his mind was enveloped in the complete, white, soundless void.

Jenihenpen: Squall... Cuddle... blink... Nope, it's still not happening for me. snerk 

Vitreous Mistress: Ah, the complications of male/female anatomy... Hope you liked this chapter... Well, not in _that_ way. You know what I mean...

RyuArashi: Thanks for the enthusiasm! How is he going to get rid of her? Well, if you know anything about my work, you'll know I love leaving readers hanging by a thread and clawing at the walls. Hehe.

Eli: I was trying to draw away from my characters a little with the third person thing. You probably have to read between the lines with this one. I'm not going to tell you everything that's happening in everyone's heads, so don't be afraid to read things into situations that aren't put there in black and white. (That goes for all my other readers, too.) Thanks for the comments on the Squall-Rinoa kiss. And yay! Someone noticed I switched the roles around! Yay! As much as I love the Squall/Zell pairing, I got tired of Zell always being the one doing the chasing. Not that Squall is the 'chasing' type, so that could be ahem interesting...

Feedback is always appreciated, and actually does influence the speed of the next chapter being written. Please e-mail me! Please?


	4. Chapter 4

And Time Again

By I don't own Final Fantasy 8. I just have a habit of collecting pets...

Rated M. This chapter has not been edited for adult content.

Sorry this chapter took a while. My muse wandered off... yes, I actually know someone as irritating as Rinoa, and they went on holiday. So I had no inspiration to write for a while...

Chapter 4

"Rinoa?"

Her dark head peered out of the bathroom. "Yes?"

"Where did you put my clothes?"

"Which clothes?"

"The ones I was wearing yesterday."

She smiled warmly. "I sent them to the cleaners for you. They were filthy."

Squall sighed. "I have asked you not to do my laundry for me," he told her, as she disappeared back into the bathroom.

"I was doing mine anyway. It was no trouble," she called back.

"Yep," Squall muttered under his breath. "That figures."

The road to Balamb was a quiet one, even on a day like today. There had been numerous groups of students travelling back and forth to Balamb all day, but the road was long enough and the countryside wild enough that they had only seen other people from a distance during the 30 minute walk. Being SeeDs, the group had naturally chosen a lively pace, keeping half an eye out for any local nasties, but mainly just enjoying the open air and company.

"...and then I want to see the Fashion Show. It's being held in the hotel foyer at 1530 hours," Selphie was enthusing. "You'd be up for that, right Rinoa?" And then, before Rinoa could reply, she carried on, "Hey Squall, do you think Laguna might show up?"

Squall shrugged goodnaturedly, his arm wrapped around Rinoa's shoulder. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Over to his left, Irvine picked up on the distinct lack of horrified disinterest in his answer. He would have expected something more like a terse 'I don't want to know'. "You wouldn't mind?" he prodded. "I mean, he's never been your favourite person and all..."

Squall hesitated. It was several months since Laguna had finally told him they were related. And after the initial shock, Squall had to admit, it was... well, in a twisted kind of way, it actually made sense. "We got past that," he replied succinctly. First, he had unjunctioned and punched Laguna in the face. There there had been the tussle while Kiros and Ward had wrestled him away from the President. But once that was all over, they had gotten past it.

"I was surprised you wanted to come at all," Rinoa said, smiling up at him and giving his hand a friendly squeeze. "Shopping and a Fashion Show and all. Not exactly your cup of tea."

Squall smiled back. "Boat show," he said succinctly, then added, "Esthar's bringing some of her battleship prototypes."

Rinoa's eyebrows rose, and her smile turned from simple happy to mildly conspiratorial. "So you think Garden needs an upgrade, huh?"

Squall's smile left him, but he managed to contain the resident snarl waiting to pounce on her. "Something like that." Hyne forbid he actually have a personal interest in something outside work. Irvine had come to his office that morning, full of his usual confidence, and announced that the Commander was taking a trip into Balamb for the afternoon. Squall had refused point blank.

He had read the memo. The Esthar Fair had arrived in Balamb, and was being promoted as the most exciting thing to hit the planet since the Lunar Cry. It was a new initiative that had sprung up since Laguna had opened Esthar's borders to international trade again, and they were displaying everything from cutting edge technologies, to Esthar fashions, to some of the fruits and vegetables found exclusively in Esthar's rocky hillside. Squall had wanted to avoid the entire circus like the plague.

And then Irvine had mentioned the boat show.

"Boat show?"

"Page three of the memo," Irvine had said, smirking in that irrefutable way he had.

Squall had shrugged dismissively, even as he reached into the trash for the elusive brochure. "I stopped reading before I got that far," he told him unappologetically. "Already felt like I wanted to run screaming from the room." He flipped to the right page, and scanned the article. His eyebrows rose a fraction. "Battle ships. With paramagical armour plating?" He glanced up at Irvine, who was now leaning precariously against the corner of his desk, and Squall wondered how much of a shove it would take to get him to fall off it, onto the floor. "Tell me Odine didn't invent that one."

Irvine feigned a thoughtful look. "I honestly don't know. But maybe you could ask them when we go to Balamb this afternoon."

"You're a bastard," Squall told him flatly.

"I love it when you talk dirty," Irvine purred, and blew Squall a kiss as he exited the room. "Meet us at 1300 hours then?"

"Whatever..."

Back in the present, Selphie was back in full swing. "What about you, Zell? What's your favourite attraction for the day?"

Squall's gaze drifted over to Zell, and watched as his shoulders shrugged in a movement of graceful carelessness. "Nothing specific. Just came along to satisfy my curiosity. Couldn't have all the students in Garden knowing more about Esthar than I do. 'Specially when they haven't even been there. I think I'll give the fashion show a miss though," he said wryly. "Somehow that just dangles below the dignity line." The conversation continued unabated while Zell ducked off the path to take a swing at a wandering Bite Bug.

"What about you, Quistis? Anything you want to see?"

"The computer display. And I'll join you for the fashion show. I hear there's going to be a bar opening this evening too," she threw in slyly. "We could meet up around 1700 hours and get something to eat before we check it out."

Nevermind that every one of them was below the legal drinking age. No one in Balamb woud stop them – not after the media-frenzy that had followed the war. Thankfully, much of the hype had died down again, but still, there was a lingering awe in the town that stopped people from trying to tell the group of teenagers what they could or couldn't do.

Zell rejoined the group at loose jog. "Did someone mention food?"

"At 1700 hours," Squall filled him in. "How about we meet up at the train station, then go from there. And then we can go laugh at a lot of people getting very drunk," he finished, with a pointed look in Irvine's direction. The cowboy shot him a nefarious look. Irvine would doubtlessly be drunk, by the end of the night. But Squall knew he would make sure he wasn't the only one.

Squall, of course, wouldn't be among them. These days he was keeping too many things buried deep inside to risk losing control, even to a small degree. So instead, he would play the role of responsible commander, making sure his friends got home in one piece and didn't get mugged along the way. That was fine with him.

"I see the town entrance!" Selphie called suddenly. "First one there gets Gertrude!" She took off through the long grass, and with a muffled curse, Irvine raced after her, struggling to close the gap even with his longer strides.

"Gertrude?" Zell asked, once they had gone.

"Don't ask," Squall replied hastily.

Zell's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch, and he nodded to himself. "Right then."

'POLYFILAMENT PSEUDOSYNTHETIC FIBRES WEAVED WITH SPACE-AGE TECHNOLOGY'

Selphie stared at the sign in bemusement. Hanging below the sign was a silver shirt. She picked up the tag on the shirt.

'The latest technology has created the ultimate thermo-regulatory multipurpose outdoor attire. Its pseudolatex design is destined for form-sculptured comfort and is easy to store. Suitable for the most extreme temperature-challenged landscapes.' 

"Hey, Quistis? Do you speak techno-babble?"

Quistis chuckled, and eased her way between clothing racks to Selphie's side. "What's the problem?"

"This shirt. Apparently it has pseudofilamentpolyfibres, and I can't work out if that's a good thing, or a bad thing."

Quistis read the label, then laughed. "It means they've invented a new fibre which can keep you at the right temperature whether you're in the Esthar desert or Trabia snowfields."

Selphie held up the shirt. "I don't know... seems a little flimsy for the snowfields."

Quistis shrugged. "That's the point, I guess. Light weight, low volume snow gear." She glanced at the price tag, and her eyebrows rose. "Alternatively, you could buy yourself a small car for that amount. Maybe we should look for something a little less... exciting."

"Look what I found!" Rinoa appeared beside them, holding up a pale green dress. The fabric it was made from shimmered in the light, much like looking at the rainbows formed on an oily surface. "The label says it doesn't stain, it never needs ironing and the fabric is rip-proof. Isn't it gorgeous? Do you think Squall would like it on me?"

Quistis had been looking impressed at the list of attributes of the fabric – if SeeD had ever needed anything, this fabric was it... her mind was already planning how to ask Squall if their uniforms could be designed from it – in something other than green, hopefully - but then Rinoa's last comment stopped her wayward thoughts in their tracks. Would Squall like it?

Squall, in her experience, had exactly two responses when asked about female clothing, and they were 'It's fine,' and 'Whatever...' At times, his relationship with Rinoa had alternately warmed her heart, and confused her – he had come a long way from the non-communicative boy who had boarded the train to Timber for their first ever SeeD mission - but the only way he was likely to notice Rinoa's clothing was if she was wearing either lacy lingerie or black leather.

"You don't think he'll like it, do you," Rinoa asked, the light in her eyes replaced by a worried frown. Quistis had a frozen kind of smile on her face, and she was clearly grasping for something to say. "What is it? Too green? Too frilly?"

"Uh... Squall really isn't that clued up on women's fashion," she hedged. "I wouldn't get my hopes up that he'd notice a great deal..."

"Really?" Rinoa asked, looking dismayed.

"Yeah. He has a pretty one track mind." How is it that I noticed that, and you didn't, Quistis thought in amazement. Especially after Rinoa had been spending so much time with him.

"Hm... Maybe I could find something else he'd like better." With that, Rinoa hurried back to the other side of the stand, replacing the dress and returning to her search through the racks.

As she watched, Quistis became aware of Selphie at her elbow. "Is it me, or did she completely miss the point of that conversation?" Selphie asked in a low voice.

Quistis sighed. "Love makes you do the wacky," she mused generously. "Poor girl."

"Poor Squall," Selphie returned.

"Speaking of significant others," Quistis said, returning to her own search through the clothing racks, "how's it going with our resident cowboy?"

"Irvine?" Selphie grinned, managing to look mischievous and love-struck at the same time. "Pretty well, I think."

"Pretty well, you _think_?"

Selphie shrugged. As an aside, she plucked a red blouse out of the rack and held it up against herself, then replaced it when Quistis shook her head. "You know Irvine. If he doesn't flirt with someone at least once an hour, the world's likely to end. It's getting better, though. He now knows the meaning of the word monogamy. We were out in Balamb seeing a movie last week, and he didn't ask for anyone's phone number."

Quistis turned to her friend, and gave her a searching look. "Are you okay with that? I mean... the way... That Irvine's like that?"

Selphie didn't bother to hide the flash of sadness in her eyes. "Sometimes it bothers me. But he's trying, and I know he loves me. And he's worth it. You must have seen it during the war. The playboy thing is just a mask he wears in public. Like the way Zell gets hyperactive and Squall... is all indifferent. Tell me there's a deeper side to Squall somewhere?" she asked suddenly, worriedly.

"There's a deeper side to Squall somewhere," Quistis replied, deadpan.

"Right. That makes me feel better." Selphie replied sardonically. "Anyway. Irvine has some really endearing qualities that mean I'm willing to meet him half way."

Quistis had to smile at that. Despite the occassional pain it caused Selphie, it was good to know that she was under no illusions as to Irvine's character. And equally good to know he was putting in the effort to make the relationship work. "Found something you like?" she asked Rinoa, as she reappeared beside them.

"What do you think?" Rinoa asked nervously, holding up a black skirt and maroon blouse. Both were fairly free of frills and fripperies.

"Definately more Squall's colour," Quistis said enthusiastically, looking over to Selphie for agreement.

Knowing she shouldn't say anything more about Squall's interest – or lack thereof – in fashion, Selphie agreed easily, earning a satisfied look from Rinoa. She was pretty sure Squall wouldn't hate it, at the very least, so it wasn't even a lie.

"Selphie was just telling me how it's been going with Irvine," Quistis began, looking for a subtle way to broach the subject with Squall's starry-eyed girlfriend. "Mind if I ask the same of you? Only if you want to talk about it, of course," she added as an easy out. As worried as she was about Rinoa and Squall's sometimes turbulent relationship, she didn't want to pry where she wasn't wanted. They made their way over to the checkout to pay for their selections. Time was marching on, and they still had to check out the computer stalls before the fashion show.

"It's going really well," Rinoa beamed. "He's really starting to open up to me. I get these glimpses of what he really thinks. It's not like he's shouting his love for me from the observation deck, but... there's this look he gives me sometimes that's all... warm and introspective. And he's learning to be more affectionate. I mean, he had his arm around me for half the journey to Balamb today. I remember when we first boarded the Ragnarok, he wouldn't even hug me. I know it's taking him a while, but I think he's making a lot of progress."

_He's making progress? _Quistis thought in dismay. Rinoa made him sound like a therapy patient, not a boyfriend. "Rinoa... not matter how long you two are together, there are some things about Squall that are probably never going to change."

"I know," she waved her hand dismissively at Quistis. "Don't worry, I know he's never going to win the socialite of the year award. But he doesn't have to keep pretending nothing affects him, either. He needs to learn to relax a little... and if I can give him a shove in the right direction, then I want to give him all the help I can," she finished with a tender smile.

Quistis forced herself to smile back, taking a few long seconds to think about her response. Rinoa seemed determined to change Squall into the boyfriend she wanted, rather than taking the time to discover the amazing man he already was. She didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings, but at the same time, Rinoa seemed to need a solid reality check. Both for her sake, and for Squall's. But before she could find the right words, Selphie let out a squeal.

"Sir Laguna! Oh wow, I was so hoping we would see you here! Isn't the fair fantastic! I bet it's going to bring a whole lot of new business to Esthar."

"Selphie! How are you doing! I see you're already snapping up the bargains," Laguna greeted them happily, eyeing the handful of bags dangling from Selphie's fingers.

Selphie flushed pink. "Oh, you know. We're girls. We're shopping. It's the natural order of things."

Laguna chuckled. "Quistis, Rinoa. Good to see you again. Enjoying the fair?"

"We are," Rinoa enthused. "Very much. But you seem to be missing... something..." She looked over his shoulder pointedly.

Laguna grinned again, though there was a faint splash of pink across his cheeks. "Kiros and Ward got a little caught up down at the computer stalls. One of the computers went on the fritz, so I... uh..."

"Gave them the slip," Quistis filled in, earning an embarrassed laugh from Laguna.

"They take their duties very seriously, protecting the president and all," he tried to explain. "I just... never got along well with rules. Even the ones that I make up."

"Thankfully, that doesn't run in the family," Quistis commented wryly. Squall had always taken Garden's rules seriously, following every regulation – apart from the dress code, strangely enough – without complaint. That hadn't changed since he had become their Commander.

"Um... you, uh... Um, you wouldn't happen to know..."

"Squall, Zell and Irvine went down to the docks to take a look at the boat show," Quistis filled Laguna in, sparing him the effort of asking after his son.

"Oh right," Laguna said, clearly relieved. "Well... I might... I might go catch up with them."

"Squall said something about wanting to see the battleships," Selphie added with a grin.

A shadow of a frown crossed the President's face. "All work and no play?"

"No," Quistis mused. "Machines... potential for massive destructive force... I think it's a guy thing."

Laguna snorted. "Right. Well... I'll be around for the Food and Wine festival tonight, so I might see you then," he hedged, trying to back away without looking like he was deserting them.

"Not a problem," Quistis excused him graciously. "We were planning on hanging around after the bar opens," she added with a wink.


	5. Chapter 5

And Time Again

By I don't own Final Fantasy 8. Nope, not me.

Rated M. **Bits of this chapter have been removed to comply with rating rules. Please visit my website for the full version.**

Okay, I officially received only ONE piece of feedback this week, so Persephone is very unhappy. Oh my goodness, I just forgot the name of my Angst muse... Pete! Pete has been feeling very restless this week due to the lack of feedback. He's been... well... angsty. And Feldspar still doesn't care either way. Except he has given me a headache.

Chapter 5 

'PARAMAGICAL ARMOUR PLATING CAPABLE OF WITHSTANDING THE IMPACT OF A GUARDIAN FORCE'

"So, we're proud to present the finest in Paramagical engineering anywhere in the world," the technician rambled on. "Esthar's understanding of paramagical beings is second to none, and our battle equipment, both transport vehicles and personal attire, is nearly indestructable!" He beamed in Irvine's direction, then at the crowd in general.

Irvine read the sign through a second time. Then he weaved his way through the crowd to the technician, who was now guiding people up the ramp onto the battleship. "What kind of GF could this withstand?"

The technician blinked at him. "Excuse me?" He continued smiling at the crowd, waving them single file up the gang plank.

Irvine pointed to the sign. "This says that the Model XW2700 Cruiser is capable of withstanding a GF attack. I was wondering what kind of GF it was designed for."

The technician clearly thought Irvine had lost his mind. "What _kind _of GF?"

"An elemental, or non-elemental?" Irvine asked, deciding to be a little more specific. "And up to what level could it withstand them? I mean there's a big difference between a level 8 fire GF and a level 100 non-elemental."

"I'm not sure..." The technician looked around, apparently seeking an escape route.

"Is there anyone around who would know?" Irvine asked, his face poker straight.

"My supervisor might be able to answer your questions," the technician said, with a relieved smile. He waved to a man standing on the ship's deck. He acknowledged them, then carefully desended onto the dock. "Hello there. I'm Colonel Banks. What can I do for you?" he asked benevolently. The technician explained Irvine's request.

"Ah, I see. That's a very good question," Colonel Banks beamed at Irvine. "It could withstand anything up to a level 50 GF. That would account for over 99 of the GF in the world," the Colonel added, when Irvine loooked unimpressed.

"Elemental or non-elemental?" Irvine asked, looking slightly irritated now.

"Excuse me?" Banks' smile seemed frozen in place.

"Well, non-elemental attacks are a lot more difficult to block than elementals. So maybe it would take a lower level non-elemental attack to overcome the defences?" Irvine mused. "Now there's a thought... How many hits from a level 50 GF could it take?"

The smile left the Colonel's face altogether. "I'm sorry, you are...?"

"Squall Leonhart."

The man looked him up and down, and laughed humourlessly. "Really. Well I've seen the picture of him, young man, and you look nothing like him. Besides which, I'll have you know that there are only three known GF on the planet with a level above 20, so I really doubt it makes a difference..."

"Did I hear someone take my name in vain?" Squall appeared beside Irvine.

The Colonel stopped mid-sentence, and gaped at Squall. "Oh my..."

"This guy," Irvine said darkly, turning to Squall, "says the armour plating can withstand a level 50 GF attack. But apparently that's only against an elemental GF."

"With or without a Boost ability?" Squall asked, deadpan.

"I'd have to assume without," Irvine said, feigning disappointment.

"So you mean, I shouldn't use one like this on it?" Squall mused, pulling up Eden's stats on his Battle Meter and holding it out for them to read. Eden had hit level 100 somewhere in the depths of Ultimecia's castle.

The Colonel and his wide eyed technician looked from the Meter, to Squall, and back to the Meter. He seemed to have lost his powers of speech. "Uh..."

Squall shrugged, and put the meter away. "I guess not."

Without another word, he and Irvine turned and walked away. Having been watching from a small distance, Zell moved to join them. "Feel better now?" he asked Irvine, amused.

"Yeah, I do, actually." Irvine grinned. "Pompous gits..."

"Mind if I ask what that was all about?" Zell asked, once they had moved far enough away.

Irvine shook his head in irritation. "They were just going on and on about how Esthar is the only country on the planet to have any idea how to use magic, and anyone else is a small-time amateur compared to them. It just pissed me off."

Zell chuckled. "Well, after Laguna decided most of the information to come out of the war was classified, you can hardly blame them for being naive."

"Doesn't mean they have to toot their own horn about it all the time,' Irvine countered. "This, on the otherhand," he stopped next to a bizarre-looking vessel, "is cool." It was vaguely cone-shaped, with various sails, probes and unidentifiable accessories attached to the outer shell.

"Sub-marine magical sonar detector," Squall read from the display. He frowned, as he quickly scanned the schematic charts and explanations. Then he stepped back, and looked over the machine again, a new-found awe in his eyes. "Cool."

"Well?" Zell asked impatiently.

"It was designed to test the theory that draw points exist under water as well as on land. The tests were successful, and they've already discovered three new types of magic from the test runs."

"And they are?" Zell prompted him enthusiastically.

"Classified," Squall answered with a smirk. "They also can't yet collect the magic. The junction system was originally designed to store magic in living beings, but they haven't invented a machine that can harvest it from the sea floor yet."

Just then, Squall felt a jolt, and a young girl with long blonde hair stumbled into their midst.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl apologised, smiling widely. "I was just so excited about seeing the boats, I wasn't watching where I was going. I didn't mean to bump into you," she beamed up at Squall. She raised her hand as if to pat his shoulder, and he flinched out of her reach.

"No problem," Zell excused her without hesitation. "Go ahead and take our place. We were about done here."

"Thanks! Wow, that's really nice of you," the girl gushed, unperturbed by Squall's cold reaction. "It just gets so chaotic, with so many people here today." Squall fought back the urge to roll his eyes, and he turned away. Damned groupies... Zell sighed, and shrugged. He had no more desire to encourage the errant interest than Squall did, but he was less inclined to be rude about it. Irvine, on the other hand, returned her smile.

She couldn't be more than 14, but she was already a looker. Long legs, pert mouth, blonde hair that looked like it was made from silk. A glimmer of interest sparked in Irvine's eyes... the girl tilted her head, and flipped her hair over her shoulder... and then he blinked, and turned away.

"Let's go check out the speedboats," he said, a little more quickly than he intended, and started walking in that direction without waiting for a reply. Squall and Zell hurried to catch up without comment.

"So... How's it going with Selphie?" Zell asked casually a few minutes later, as they looked over the latest racing pleasure-craft.

"I think I frustrate her," Irvine replied, without looking up from the sign he was reading. Esthar engineers had designed reverse-wings to provide a considerable downward thrust, allowing their speedboats to reach higher speeds without becoming airbourne. It seemed like a long-awaited solution to the spectacular crashes which had plagued the sport. "This is cool," he muttered, impressed, drawing Zell's attention to the unique aerodynamics. Zell didn't reply, and finally, Irvine looked up at him, and sighed. "Selphie's a great girl," he muttered, turning a faint shade of pink. "Sometimes I just wonder... when she's going to get tired of waiting for me to get my act together."

Zell didn't reply for a thoughtful moment. "Well I guess it's good that you're aware of that," he said finally.

Irvine stared at him in surprise, and laughed. "You don't pull your punches, do you," he murmured.

Zell shrugged. "Tell it like it is, I always say. I could tell you she'd wait for you forever, but we'd both know it's not true."

"Damn straight," Irvine said with a self-depracating smile. "So," he moved on, noticing Squall looking at a display a few boats over. "How do you reckon our resident Glacier is going with his own love story?"

He should have seen that one coming, Zell thought darkly. Fumbling for something generic to say, he only managed a faint gurgle, and cleared his throat.

"That well, huh?" Irvine looked appropriately surprised, and concerned. "Gees, sorry I asked."

"Irvine, it's not... I mean, he's... Don't say anything to him," Zell pleaded finally.

"But he's said something to you?" Irvine guessed.

"No comment," Zell muttered, wandering over to the next boat in the display.

"She doesn't see him."

"What?" Zell's head snapped up. If Irvine meant what he thought he did, he had unwittingly hit the nail on the head. That was almost exactly what Squall had told him before...

"Rinoa doesn't see Squall for who he is," Irvine extrapolated. "She sees what the rest of the world does. A lost hero who needs rescuing. And she's kidding herself into thinking she's close enough to be the one to rescue him. I know about women, remember?" he said, to Zell's dazed look. "Guys, on the other hand..." He looked over at Squall again, who remained oblivious to their current topic of conversation. "I'd have to admit I have no idea how Squall feels about that situation." He gave Zell a searching look, held it for a moment longer than would have been considered polite, and then looked away with a sad smile. "And you're not going to tell me. I wouldn't expect you to break his confidence," he added quickly, when Zell opened his mouth to object, and the flash of anger quickly receeded from the martial artists eyes. "I just don't want to see it end badly for them."

Neither did Zell. But, he admitted to himself, as he watched Squall across the dock, even he was still confused about his Commander's feelings. Squall had admitted to being frustrated and resentful of Rinoa, back on their Dollet Mission, but in contrast his behaviour today had been... warm. And compliant. He'd aquiesced to Rinoa's requests without comment, holding her hand, carrying her bag for her, submitting to her endless desire for physical contact with hardly a raised eyebrow. For a guy as reticent as Squall, that was... not normal. But then, on the mission he'd been like that at first, until Zell had pushed him hard enough and he'd snapped out his frustration in a flurry of bitter poison. He couldn't just be keeping all his feelings bottled up inside... could he?

From across the dock, Squall feigned interest in the boat in front of him, aware of the surreptitious looks Zell and Irvine kept throwing his way. In all honesty, he couldn't care less what they were talking about, though he seemed to be a central feature in their conversation, but he didn't mind giving them the time and privacy to finish their discussion. Actually, it was a relief to have some time to himself for a few minutes. He'd used up most of his daily quota of words on the walk into town, and it was a relief to not have to keep thinking up congenial replies to random bits of conversation.

And as an added bonus, from this distance, he could take his own private glances at Zell, hopefully without rousing his suspicions just yet.

It had been a full week since they had arrived back from their mission. That first night back had been something of a revelation for Squall, and after Rinoa had finally returned to her own quarters the following morning, he had taken a strong cup of coffee out to the observation deck, and stared out over the Balamb countryside, replaying the image he had seen in bed the night before.

This section has been removed to comply with the rating rules of this website. 

Rinoa... Oh Hyne...

Maybe it wasn't anywhere near so complicated as that. Maybe it wasn't about Zell, or even another man, at all. Maybe he just wanted someone who understood him, a fellow warrior, who could embrace the battle lust without fear and feel a soul-deep satisfaction about being covered in caterchipillar goo...

Which was why Squall now found himself taking sideways glances at Zell and Irvine from across the docks. The two of them seemed absorbed by a yacht, which would doubtlessly have some space-age design or aerodynamic terrificness, and so Squall let his gaze travel slowly over Irvine's figure. While he still played the fool, and the ladies' man on occassion, Irvine was as battle-hardened as him or Zell. And male. So if the answer to his strange attraction to Zell lay in either of those factors, Irvine should spark some small reaction in him, at the very least.

Squall waited, looked away, looked back, and sighed. Cowboy hat. Long hair. Cowboy pants... No, when he looked at Irvine he was more likely to burst out laughing than get a hard-on. His gaze drifted across to Zell, and instantly he felt a warm tingle through his chest. Damn it...

Forcing himself to look back at the boats, Squall waited until his heart had resumed its normal pace before trying to unravel the twisted threads of his thoughts. It was ridiculous. Two errant flashes of Zell in bed with him, an idea that had never occured to him before a week ago, and now he was running off with fantasies about actually getting the man into bed. There were a hundred reasons why it would – and should – never happen. There was no guarantee – no hint of a suggestion, in fact – that Zell would be the slightest bit interested in men in general, or in him specifically. Zell was his best friend, and no matter how he phrased it, that kind of conversation could easily lead to a fractured friendship. That was a risk he didn't think he would want to take. And if it did go wrong, how would their other friends react to it... it was almost too bizarre to think about. And not least of all, he was still dating Rinoa... and for all his wayward thoughts, he hadn't actually considered breaking it off with her.

He glanced back over at his friends, and realised that during his introspection, a third figure had joined them. A third figure wearing a Hawaiian shirt... Oh Hyne...

"...and 'en Kiros got into thelevator," Laguna slurred, trying not to laugh, "...'cept he forgot iz broken, and fell down the shaft!" He broke into raucous laughter, joined by Irvine, Selphie and Zell. Quistis, too, was more than halfway to being drunk, but appeared to have missed the story, while Rinoa was too busy trying to climb down Squall's throat to pay much attention. "It took us three hours," Laguna went on, holding up four fingers, "to get him out."

"Only because you were too drunk to call the Emergency Service," Kiros pointed out with dignity. "He kept trying to tie a rope to his desk and throw the end down to me, except the knots kept slipping. I ended up with four ropes at the bottom with me."

"That's right!" Laguna slapped the table with his hand, spilling no less that three drinks. "And Ward was off... Where were you, Ward?" He spun on his stool, looking around for his missing friend, and tilted sideways dangerously. Squall whipped out a hand to catch him, shifting him back into a more-or-less upright position. "Where did Ward get to?" Laguna wondered in confusion.

"He went to the bar to get another round," Squall told him mildly. "Along with a strong coffee for you."

"Ah!" Laguna said brightly. "Thash nicsh of him."

After making sure he was reasonably secure, Squall returned to his own seat, or rather, Rinoa's. She had cornered him between herself and the table, and he used the excuse of rescuing Laguna to get her to shift over into his old seat. The arrangement still left her sitting more or less in his lap, but at least he had an escape route if he needed it. As he slid onto the stool, Rinoa hooked her ankle over one of his, and grabbed his furred collar, pulling him towards her for a wet kiss.

"Hey Squall." Irvine leaned over to him, his words muffled in the din of the makeshift bar. "How come you're not drinking tonight?"

Squall gave him a long-suffering glare. "Because there will be no rooms available in the hotel tonight, so someone has to make sure you clowns get home safely."

"Pfsshh." Irvine waved a hand at him dismissively. "You're just saying that because the last time you got drunk, you decided it would be fun to use a Renzokuken on a Caterchipiller."

"That made a mess," Zell put in helpfully. He was definately buzzed, Squall noted, but at least he wasn't slurring his words yet.

On a different day, or in different company, the memory might have elicited a smile from Squall. All that had remained of the monster had been lawn fertiliser, pulverised body parts no longer even vaguely identifiable. "Remind me next time to use Eden on a Bite Bug," he murmured sardonically. Zell snorted, while Irvine chuckled.

From his left, he felt Rinoa clamp down on his arm. "That's my Squallie," she crowed happily. "Our knight in shining armour, ready to see us home safely."

"Who's a knight in shining armour?" Selphie blurted, arriving at Irvine's side, looking unnaturally perky, even for her. "You're the only Knight I'll ever need!" she told Irvine earnestly, trying to look solemn, but then ruined the effect by breaking into a lopsided grin. "Come on, my noble steed... Time to take your damsell for a ride!" In a surprisingly graceful move, considering how much she had had to drink, Selphie leapt onto Irvine's back, and he obligingly hooked his hands under her knees and took off with a cry, treating his now loudly cheering girlfriend to a piggy-back ride around the room.

"I think she's a little confused," Zell observed drily. "Isn't it the knight that rides the steed, not the damsell?" In a moment of sudden awareness, he realised what he had said, and the other context in which it could be applied, and he lowered his head into his hands. "Oh Hyne, no. I've lowered myself to Irvine's level of lecherous comments. This is all your fault," he accused suddenly, pointing a finger at his half-empty glass of bourbon. (Smooth Esthar Bourbon – The only way to drink bourbon.)

Beside him, Rinoa burst into a fit of girlish giggles, while Squall watched Irvine carry Selphie around the bar, narrowly missing a number of patrons, who were thankfully so inebriated themselves that they didn't think to complain. Selphie's skirt was now tucked almost indecently high, and Squall had quite the view of her athletic thighs, not to mention her cleavage, as she bounced in time with Irvine's unsteady gait. But instead of the physical desire he had expected, he felt only a vague distaste. It was like trying to perve at Ellone, for Hyne's sake. Selphie was all but a sister to him, and she completely failed to arouse anything but a mild, fond amusement.

Strangely disappointed by his own lack of response to her, Squall cast a calculating glance at Quistis, sitting across the other side of the large table. She was intellectual, socially reserved, ruthless in battle, and she had learned over the past year not to pressure him to talk when he didn't want to. If any woman was going to spark his interest, Quistis should certainly do it. Squall let his gaze linger on her, waiting expectantly for the spark of physical desire. Quistis looked up then, and saw him watching her. She smiled warmly, lifting her glass in a casual salute. Squall forced himself to return the smile, then he looked away. He had felt nothing.

Three hours later, Squall waited patiently for the last of his friends to stumble out of the bar, and begin the unsteady wander back to Garden. Despite his self-assigned protective stance, much of their incapaciation was due to the opportunity to relax for once, rather than to a true intoxication. Had a t-rexaur leapt out of the bushes, they would have had little difficulty disposing of it – a fact that had unfortunately actually been proven, in the weeks after the war had ended. More than once a group of them had come to Balamb and gotten drunk at the hotel bar – desperate to unwind and escape the confusing and ongoing search for answers and explanations - and then stumbled home afterwards. And the t-rexaur that had crossed their path had been reduced to a fetid steaming pile of blood and ash in a matter of minutes. In fact, they had been perhaps overeager in their efforts to kill it, leaving a gaping hole in the undergrowth and an interesting charred appearance to the forest.

As they wound their lazy way back through Balamb's streets, Zell waited until the girls had gained a little distance on them, then sidled up to Irvine. "Hey, Irvine, I've been wondering about something Selphie said this morning, and I was hoping you could maybe explain...?"

"Sure, fire away." Irvine agreed amicably.

"Well, um... it was when she mentioned... um... Gertrude?"

Irvine grinned, and cleared his throat. "Uh... Last time Selphie was in Deling, she found this little...uh... toy shop. Kinda tucked away in a back alley, if you know what I mean." He gave Zell a look that let him know _exactly_ what Irvine meant. Galbadia was known for its somewhat... exuberant... sex industry.

Zell processed that for a second, then let out a startled, "Hang on! Gertrude isn't a..."

"A...?" Irvine looked genuinely mystified.

"A... hooker?"

Irvine snorted. "No. Gees, Selphie would kill me. Not that I would, anyway,' he interjected quickly. "No, Gertrude is a..." He glanced around, suddenly seeming to notice their somewhat public situation, then leaned in to whisper the brief explanation in Zell's ear.

Irvine stepped back, and watched as Zell's eyes grew almost comically wide. "Really..." he choked out. "That must be... um..." He couldn't think of a good way to finish the sentence, so he let the idea dangle.

Irvine shrugged, and blushed. "So okay, I'm a kink. Besides, you asked."

Zell took a deep breath. "In future, if I ask a stupid question, just tell me I don't want to know. Oh shit, that image is going to be in my head all night," he complained.

Irvine laughed. "Well, while you're thinking about it, I'm going to be doing it." He smirked. "I won the race, after all."

"Oh man, that is just... that is wrong." He made a disgusted sound. "I'm going to leave you to your perverted little thoughts and go talk to Squall."

"Go rescue Squall, you mean," Irvine muttered. "Looks like Rinoa's getting her claws into him again."

Zell looked up ahead, where Rinoa was trying to encourage Squall to skip with her, swinging his arm forcibly back and forth, and undoubtedly calling him some degree of boring because he refused to oblige. "Yikes."

"Hey Zell," Irvine said suddenly, as Zell was about to leave. "I know you didn't really want to talk about it earlier, but... Squall and Rinoa. They're not on the same page, are they."

Zell considered that for a moment, and then he sighed. If it was that obvious to Irvine, then it wasn't like he was really giving away any secrets. "They're not even in the same book. Still, I guess they've got the same excuse for screwing up their lives as everyone else here. We all got issues." Zell shrugged, and broke into a light jog to catch up with Squall.

Squall was uncharacteristically relieved to see the cool glow of Garden's lights appear around the bend in the road. Shortly after they had left Balamb, Zell had joined him and Rinoa, and stuck by them for the entire trip back. Normally, he would have been glad of the company, as having an audience encouraged Rinoa to ease off her rabid displays of affection. Today, though, after the tumultuous paths his thoughts had been taking, having the object of his lust walking next to his girlfriend was muddying the waters – and making Squall doubly relieved he hadn't had anything to drink tonight.

His relief was short lived, however, as Rinoa let go of his arm, which she had been clinging to for the past twenty minutes, and slung her arm around his back, slipping a hand into his back pocket. Three things seemed to happen simultaneously at that moment – Rinoa's hand gave a lascivious squeeze of his rear, he glanced at Zell, his expression one of angry desperation, and Zell shot him a look of unadulterated sympathy and concern.

Somewhere between his body and his brain, the messages got mixed up, and he felt a sudden rush of desire in his groin and skip in his heart rate, though his mind remained firmly attached to Zell's apparent ability to see straight through him. To his dismay, his body also supplied a twitch of surprise, and he turned back to Rinoa in time to see the smirk of triumph slipping from her lips. Oh Hyne... surely she wasn't going to want him tonight?

But of course she was, Squall realised. Tonight, when his head was full of thoughts about Zell, and his emotions were shot to pieces, she would expect him to put up with her cooing and bleating about how much she adored him, and expect him to return the words in kind. She would want to be wooed and seduced and pleasured, when all he really wanted was to collapse into bed and sleep – or failing that, give a few token thrusts of his pelvis before curling up next to a warm, solid, _quiet_ body.

Apparently, Rinoa had had enough to drink that she was forgetting the fact that they had an audience. Squall felt a hand slide down his thigh, then back up, brushing a little too close to his groin to be considered decent for a public setting. This time, there was no response from his groin, and he let his gaze land on Zell, who was walking now with his head down, hands tucked firmly in his pockets. Squall silently willed him to look up, suddenly wanting more than anything to hear Zell's sage-like wisdom on what he should do about Rinoa. Or willing to settle, at the very least, for an unguarded glance into his knowing eyes.

Zell didn't look up, and as they entered Garden's wide gates, Rinoa plastered herself to his side, gyrating her hips against his thigh in what she probably thought was a subtle way. Squall turned, and waited, while the rest of their motley crew stumbled up the stairs into Garden, exchanged enthusiastic goodnights, and dispersed to their own quarters. And then he was at Rinoa's mercy.

A wave of sorrow and anger rose up, bitter words on the tip of his tongue... along with memories of past futile conversations in which he had tried to deny Rinoa something she wanted. It would end in tears, pouting, guilt laid heavily on him, though he refused to suffer the burden, and for the weeks following, endless reminders of the time he had disappointed her when she was only trying to make him happy. He couldn't live through that again. And so he grabbed the anger and sadness, and pushed them down, forcing them away relentlessly until, like a switch, he felt his emotions give out, and fade away to nothing.

Who knew when he would be able to turn them back on again.

Rinoa smiled warmly up at her boyfriend as the last of their friends drifted away down the corridors. She saw the fierce protectiveness fading away, now that he had seen them safely home, and saw his muscles relax, the tension around his eyes and mouth smooth out to a calm lassitude.

She fought back a giggle, at the way he avoided her gaze until the last person had disappeared from the hallway. Sometimes, even after they had been together so many times, he seemed hesitant – shy, almost. It was hopelessly endearing, seeing him work through his barriers to let her in, let her see the sensitive, tender side of him.

Rinoa knew she would have to ask him to take her to bed. It was one of the many amazing things about him. He never presumed, never took for granted their physical relationship. He was almost too much the perfect gentleman sometimes, always so careful to respect her wishes. Now they were alone, she stepped closer to him, pressing herself against his warm body. She leaned up, depositing a kiss below his ear before she whispered into it, "I want you, Squall. I want you to make love to me."

She felt the shiver that ran through him, as his arms came to settle about her waist, and felt him sigh. "Come on," he murmured huskily, and took her hand. "The sooner we're behind closed doors, the better."

Rasalas: Thank you for being the only person to review this week! throws confetti on Rasalas I've started playing the game (again) and noticed how Zell has these odd moments of stillness and introspection. I guess I'm just bringing out those parts of him more with this fic. Glad you're liking it!

Feedback is craved. Like air. Or sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

And Time Again

By I don't own Final Fantasy 8. And my thesaurus doesn't have a sense of humour.

Rated M. Except that most of this chapter has actually been removed due to adult content, so you pretty much have to read it at my website, or have absolutely no idea what is going on.

Oh my goodness... I had thought maybe I was giving Rinoa too much of a hard time, but then I played the game again, and she really is as vacuous as I remember her being! Ahh!

And my muse came back. Yes, that really really irritating person got back from holiday, so now I can write irritating Rinoa even better than before... excuse me while I vomit.

Chapter 6

A huge chunk here has been removed due to adult content. Please read the original version at my website.

"Morning, Squall."

Squall squinted as bright sunlight flowed through his open curtains. Nevermind that he had asked Rinoa not to wake him up of a morning. He glared briefly up at her, but she seemed to mistake the expression for a frown, or perhaps just a reaction to the bright light.

"I made you coffee." She held out the cup hopefully. "I'm still getting used to your coffee machine, but I hope it's okay." She chewed her lip nervously. It was, Squall knew, an expression designed to gain his sympathy, rather than because she actually thought she had done something wrong.

He took the cup, and regarded her with interest. "How's your head this morning?" She hadn't been all that intoxicated – just enough to loosen her inhibitions – but he might be successful in making her think she was more drunk than she remembered.

"Fine," she replied, a hint of surprise in her tone. "Shouldn't it be?"

Squall shrugged, giving her a sideways glance. "Just checking."

"You didn't take advantage of me last night, if that's what you were thinking," she informed him coyly.

Squall smirked, and took a sip of the coffee. It was really quite ordinary. "Good to know." He shifted position, moving to lean back against the headboard, resting the coffee on his duna-covered thigh as he closed his eyes. Then, feeling her gaze on him, he cracked one eye open. "What's on your mind?" he asked, having dismissed the more obvious, but more inflammatory options of 'What do you want?' and 'Something I can do for you?'.

Rinoa started to say something, then changed her mind, blushing and looking at the duna coyly. "It's just... yesterday at the fair I bought something... and I wondered if you'd like to see it."

Chances were it wasn't going to be a Force Armlet, or a new type of ammunition. And despite the fact that the girls had spent a good hour at the computer fair, he doubted it involved any new technology. The correct answer was yes, of course, so Squall nodded his acquiescence, unable to think of any encouraging words just yet.

"Great! I'll go get it." She scampered off the bed, and Squall heard a rustling in the lounge before she appeared again clutching a handful of bags.

"I got a new skirt," she chirruped, pulling the first item out of the bag. "They had these in lots of different colours, but I thought this would go with the shoes I got last week."

The skirt was pale blue. Squall had no idea what shoes she had bought. "Looks fine," he replied.

"You don't sound very enthusiastic," Rinoa complained.

"Well... I don't know much about women's fashion," Squall pointed out. "If you like it, then it's all good."

"You could at least try to be interested," she told him bossily. "Well, anyway, we went to the display where they had all the technologically advanced materials, which was all completely expensive, so we didn't get anything there, even though there were some really nice outfits. There was this one top with purple flowers weaved into a kind of mosaic design... apparent they're flowers that only grow in Esthar, but it was a couple of thousand gil, or something crazy, so anyway, we didn't get anything there. Then we went..."

Squall held back a sigh, and attempted to tune out as Rinoa chattered on. He slowly drained his coffee cup, and gave the occasional nod and word of agreement. Had he been asked an hour later, he wouldn't have remembered a word she had said if his life had depended on it. Nor, indeed, would he have cared.

At length, Rinoa paused for breath, the break in the flow of words alerting Squall that he might need to pay attention, now. She had paused, her hand hidden in a bag and an expression of anticiption on her face. "And this..." she brought out what he assumed to be the final piece, "is for you. I mean, I thought I'd wear it for you on our anniversary." Her face was lit with a shy, hopeful smile.

Squall's first reaction was to ask 'What anniversary?', but he bit back the words in the nick of time. It was a question bound to be met with pouts and anger and such vacuous sentiments as 'well if you don't know, then I'm not telling you'. Instead, he turned his attention to the clothes she was holding up. It appeared to be a black skirt, with a maroon shirt. "Nice," he said, raising his eyebrows. He had no idea what the facial expression was supposed to say, but perhaps Rinoa would read something into it.

"Really?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Sure."

"Wow. Thanks, Squall." She beamed at him, then jumped onto the bed, leaning forward to give him a thorough kiss. "I was worried you wouldn't like it."

He didn't dislike it. Was that close enough? "Can I ask a question that might... upset you?"

Rinoa looked at him sceptically, a frown settling across her forehead. "Um... okay?"

"Uh... in the interests of male ignorance..." he tried to look suitable shamed, "which anniversary are we celebrating, and when is it?"

She looked disappointed. But not murderously so. "The anniversary of the day we started dating."

"Ah." The idea drifted through Squall's mind, searching for some event to attach itself to. Their budding relationship had happened very gradually, so the day in question could be anytime from his march across the Esthar train tracks, right up to the first time he had taken her to Balamb, a month after the celebration party after the war had ended.

She smiled knowingly at him. "You'd completely forgotten it was coming up, hadn't you."

She was patronising him again. Lost in her own world of self-importance, she had forgotten that Squall had bigger things on his mind. Like running the most powerful paramilitary organisation on the planet. And as seemed to happen more and more often these days, Squall suddenly reached the end of his considerably long fuse. "No, it was more like never acknowledging it existed in the first place," he told her flatly.

"What?" Her face was amusingly confused. She probably suspected she had just been insulted, but was perhaps too surprised to react any more strongly.

"Rinoa," he said shortly. She would get angry now. And he would suffer for it later. But that was one of the prices to be paid for shutting off his emotions. It lent him a careless disregard for the consequences of his actions. "Anniversaries are significant occassions, usually to mark events that happen once or twice in a lifetime. Like birthdays, or weddings. Or the end of a war. Two people deciding to consider the option of maybe having a romantic relationship that may or may not ever go anywhere... is not an anniversary."

Rinoa sighed. "Okay, so it's not an anniversary that matters to many people. But it can still be important to us."

"No. Pay attention, Rinoa. It's not important. It's not an anniversary."

Rinoa blinked at him. "Well, it's important to me. Oh come on, don't be a stick-in-the-mud." She pouted at him, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers.

Squall sighed. He could at least try to explain his point of view. "Rinoa, we started dating very gradually. We got to know each other over a long and very stressful period of time, and even once the war was over, a lot of people were still reeling from the shock of it, which was a lot more significant than the idea that we'd moved from friendship into dating. I don't think one day in the gradual process of getting to know you is any more significant than any other day."

"Well, couldn't we celebrate it anyway?"

Um... no? Squall rubbed his forehead. He considered the idea of giving in, except that it would mean a long and drawn out night of wining and dining, pretending to be interested in her chattering, followed by some truly hideous sex. "Rinoa, get the picture. Please. Women will make up anniversaries for any pissingly small event, and guys just don't give a shit. I'm not taking you out for a date on a day which signifies another day which was completely insignificant."

She was angry now. Perhaps not so much at the fact that he didn't care, as because she wasn't getting her own way. "You... uh! I can't believe you could be that heartless! Doesn't the fact that it's important to one of the people closest to you mean anything? And don't swear at me," she told him off sharply.

Just as quickly as it had shown up, Squall's irritation vanished, leaving behind a blank, empty disinterest. "Whatever." He reached over and set his cup on the nightstand, then slid out of bed, pulling on his pants smoothly.

"Squall!" Standing by the end of the bed, she stamped her foot. Squall stared at the offending limb, unable to quite believe he had just seen her do that. "I just want to show you I love you! Why is that such a bad thing?"

Pulled out of the faint haze he was in, Squall reached for his shirt, and pulled in on quickly. "You want to show me you love me? Try listening to me. That would go a long way."

"And what about you listening to me? This is important to me. Why can't you just let me be happy about this?"

Squall turned to face her. Then he stared at her, as the answer to her question rose in his mind. _Because I don't care what you think_. Because, in fact, he had never cared what she thought.

And if that was the case... he had no reason to be dating her. No reason at all. The thought was like a breath of fresh air after being trapped underwater for too long.

The tension left him like a puff of wind. "Rinoa... This isn't right." He sat down heavily on the side of the bed. "We don't have enough in common to make a relationship like this work."

The change in Rinoa was like a switch had been flicked. Her face softened, melting into a sympathetic frown. Her stance – previously standing tall with her hands on her hips, changed to one of meekness and appeasement. "Oh Squall... I don't want to fight with you." She eased onto the bed, stroking his arm softly. "If you're that opposed to celebrating, then fine, we won't do it. I didn't realise it upset you so much."

Squall met her gaze squarely, unfazed by the sudden appeal for his sympathies. "It's not about some damn anniversary. We don't communicate, we don't understand each other, and we want completely different things out of life. That's not the basis for a good relationship."

"That's because we have to work on it," Rinoa pointed out softly. "I'm sorry, Squall. I know I can push you too hard. But we've come too far to give up on each other." She smiled weakly. "There aren't many couples in the world who can say they've saved each other's lives. And we fought together, and travelled to the ends of the world... and into space together." She stroked his arm, and kissed his shoulder gently. "I'm still learning who you are, Squall. I'm not like the others... they all grew up with you, but I just jumped in at the last minute. And I still feel like I'm trying to put the puzzle together with half the pieces missing." She peered at him winsomely. "But I'm trying, Squall." She smiled, trying hard to reassure him of her sincerity.

"How about," she suggested, when he didn't reply, "I give you some time and space to yourself. We've been seeing a lot of each other lately, and maybe we just need a couple of hours apart." She hopped nimbly off the bed. "How does that sound?"

"Yeah, that'd be good." Squall didn't even try to sound sympathetic, and he didn't care if she thought he was kicking her out of his room.

"Alright." She kissed his cheek quickly. "Give me two minutes, and I'll get dressed."

Squall nodded, and stood up. He snatched his coffee cup from the nightstand and went into the kitchen, staring blankly at the coffee pot without seeing it. She would be out of his room soon. And he felt a boiling rage that wouldn't let him think straight until she was gone. A few minutes later, Rinoa appeared behind him, dressed, bags in hand.

"Hey, sweety." She ran a hand over his shoulder, and he turned to face her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Squall snapped, marching over to the door and hitting the release.

Rinoa came to stand in front of him. "Do I get a goodbye kiss?"

Without thinking about it, Squall leaned down and kissed her, unsurprised when she held onto him, prolonging the kiss before finally letting him go. She smiled encouragingly up at him, then stepped backwards out of his quaters. "I'll catch up with you later."

Squall forced a faint smile to ghost over his lips. "No problem."

She blew him a kiss, edging reluctantly away down the hallway. "Bye, lover." Surrupticiously, Squall leaned backwards, managing to get far enough away from the door's sensors for the damn thing to obediently slide shut.

He stood there for a short while, waiting for the world to stop shifting around him. A surge of violent rage welled up within him, but he grabbed it, and shoved it back down again. Don't feel, he reminded himself. Don't want. Don't feel. Don't let her matter. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't think about it. He licked his lips, irritated by the faint taste of her on them, and exhaled a puff of air at the ceiling. He turned, scanning the room blankly. There was coffee in the pot. It wasn't particularly great coffee, but it would wash the taste of her from his mouth.

An image of Zell welled up in his mind, but he shoved that down too. Don't think about it. He wandered back into his bedroom with his coffee.

Rinoa had left her bra dangling over the edge of his bed. She would probably tell him she had forgotten it, later. Not the kind of thing one forgets. _When I was getting dressed this morning, I forgot to put on my underwear._ Not likely. He felt the desire to throw the damned thing in the garbage, but repressed the impulse. Getting upset about it being there would mean that she mattered. That her invasion of his privacy and space actually bothered him. And it didn't. Because he didn't feel a thing. Couldn't feel. To move it would be to want it gone. And he didn't want anything. Not any more.

Silently, Squall held out his cup of hot coffee, and tipped the remaining half-cup over his forearm, not paying any attention to the way it seeped into the carpet. The skin on his arm reddened, and pain seared along his nerves. It felt good. It was the only thing he had left to feel, after all.

Well... I honestly wasn't expecting Zell to show up in the middle of that, but then suddenly he was knocking at the door, and I was all curious about what he was going to do, so I decided what the heck, I'd let him in.

And it was brought to my attention that it was actually possible to sympathise with Rinoa about the way Squall treats her, so I thought I needed to show you a little more about her personality and motives. I hope we're all feeling a little less sympathetic now. Remember, feel free to read between the lines!

Wow! Lots of lovely reviews! Thank you everybody!

Rasalas: Mmmm... a submissive Squall... I wasn't planning on that at first, but I was trying to write Squall as dominant, and he just wouldn't cooperate. Glad you like Squall's personality. It's difficult to develop sometimes because in the game he was all 'follow orders, obey the rules, get the job done' and we never really see what he does in his spare time (apart from worry about stuff, of course.)

Vitreous Mistress: Wow, that's quite a compliment! Thanks! Stupid Rinoa indeed...

Zierra: Thank you for wonderful feedback! You've set some plot bunnies racing around, particularly about Squall and Zell's relationship. Thank you! Does this chapter answer a question or two about how Zell feels about Squall?

Eli: Wow... that was quite a review! And it was the first real criticism I've received. Which strangely, makes me really excited, because it's brought to life a whole pile of plot bunnies. Glad you appreciate Rinoa's character. I'm trying to make her like sand in your shoe. It doesn't hurt, and it doesn't cause any immediate injuries, but leave it there long enough and it can send you round the bend. Yes, this fic is a lot darker than 'DasR'. I originally wanted to write DasR with a much darker Squall, but then Zell showed up and he got all happy and secure, so I guess I'm making up for it now. I did take some of my inspiration from Julie's Squall... but I don't want to give too much away right now. Suffice to say that there is a lot more character development to come... all is not as it appears to be.

And yes, I wasn't totally happy with chapter 4, so I can see your point there.

Feedback is patted. Like a puppy.


	7. Chapter 7

And Time Again

By I don't own Final Fantasy 8. But I now have my own computer so I can write whenever I like! Yay!

Rated M. Nothing has been removed from this chapter. Yay.

Oh help... I've started stealing bit of Xineko's Rinoa. But damn, she writes a good Rinoa...

Chapter 7

Lionheart swung through the air in a silent arc, slicing through the grat's tentacle like a hot knife through butter. There was a wet thud as the limb hit the dirt. The grat made a squelching sound as Zell's fists pounded into its rubbery body, and then it gasped, and unceremoniously collapsed.

Squall felt a distinct lack of satisfaction at the victory. But then, the point of it all wasn't to kill a lot of grats. It was just to get some exercise. He and Zell had both removed as many junctions as possible, keeping only one GF each in order to make use of the odd curaga, but otherwise sticking to physical blows to fight their battles. And after half an hour in the training centre, the dark cloud that had hung over Squall all morning was finally beginning to lift. He reached into the undergrowth, grabbing a handful of grass and using it to wipe Lionheart's blade. He would clean it thoroughly after their training session was over, of course, but grat blood had a tendency to dry with a consistency like superglue. The more he removed now, the less he would have to struggle over later.

A figure in a blue dress drifted through Squall's mind, but he deliberately blocked her out. He had been doing it all morning, refusing to think about their heated argument in his room, and succeeding for the most part. The warm tingle he felt each time he saw Zell in action was not bothering him too much either, though he had resorted to trying to keep his teammate in his peripheral vision most of the time. Letting him become the focus of Squall's attention still seemed like a bad idea.

Zell bounced on his toes, waiting for Squall to come out of whatever daze he had fallen into now. He had been unfocused all morning, slow in his reactions – slow even for his unjunctioned state – less talkative than was usual even for him, and prone to doing what he was doing now – staring off into the middle distance like he was contemplating the meaning of life itself.

Earlier, Zell had considered interrupting his reverie to ask him what the problem was. And after stopping himself with the three hundred and fifth excuse, Zell had finally acknowledged that the reason he didn't want to ask was that it probably had something to do with Rinoa... and if that was the case, he just didn't want to know.

Or rather, he wanted to know too desperately, and was therefore at risk of using the information for his own selfish gain, rather than to help out his friend. It was one thing to keep his thoughts to himself when he thought Squall was in a happy, stable relationship. It was quite another thing to do so when he was trying to escape from a harpy who had her claws stuck into him.

"Have you ever... wanted a girlfriend?" Squall had broken out of his trance, Zell realised in a flash, and was heading out of the leafy grove back onto the main path. The question registered belatedly, and Zell hurried to catch up.

"No, hang on, I'll amend that question," Squall interjected. "Has there ever been a specific woman you were interested in?"

Thank Hyne for small favours. "No." Zell hopped over a tuft of long grass, and fell into a casual stroll beside Squall.

"Really?" Squall looked faintly surprised.

"Why does that surprise you?"

Squall shrugged, batting at some undergrowth halfheartedly. "Some days... I think we're older than anyone else on the planet. And other days it seems like we still have a whole lot of growing up to do. I was just thinking that forming close relationships... it's one of the things we haven't had a lot of time or energy to learn to do, and..." He shrugged again. "One thought led to another, and that's where the train of thoughts ended up."

Zell made a non-committal sound. "I've been interested in having a relationship. In a fairly generic sense. But I've never met... a woman... who I thought stood out from the crowd." Zell watched Squall carefully as he spoke, weighing up what he should say next. He had a choice here, and the consequences of that choice could potentially be far-reaching. But then again... Squall had spilt his soul to Zell on more than one occasion recently. Maybe it was only fair he did the same now. "I've never... actually been interested in dating women at all."

Squall raised one dark eyebrow. "You just said you _were _interested in a relationship."

"I am interested," Zell confirmed. "But not with a woman."

For the first time in over ten minutes, Squall turned to look Zell full in the face, a question dancing in his eyes. And Zell watched, his heart pounding in his chest as Squall put the pieces together.

Finally, Squall looked away, forcing himself to resume their slow trudge amongst the wildlife. "Oh." He looked sideways at Zell again, then away down the path.

The silence was making Zell uncomfortable. "Does that freak you out?"

"I don't know." Squall flipped Lionheart up onto his shoulder, and surveyed the wilderness around them. "It's not really... I mean, it's not the kind of thing you expect to hear, is it?"

Zell chuckled. "Right. 'Hey Squall, how about some training? How's life been treating you? And by the way, I'm gay.' Doesn't flow smoothly into a conversation, does it."

Squall shook his head, but his lips were curved into a faint smile. Then he flipped his gunblade down into a fighting stance. "T-Rex?" he asked casually, nodding up the path.

With no small measure of relief, Zell grinned. "Ready when you are."

Fifteen breathless minutes later, Zell dove smoothly out of the way as the T-rex tumbled to the ground, regaining his feet gracefully, then steadying himself on a nearby tree branch. "Hyne above, what level was that?" he puffed, in between sucking air into his lungs.

Squall checked the latest entry in his battle meter, breathing hard himself. "Eighty three." He flicked his hair, now dripping with sweat, out of his eyes, then reached into his mind for the familiar murmur of a curaga spell. He could feel his flesh repairing itself, aches fading, and the tingle of skin mending on a nasty scrape down the side of his neck. T-rex scales were as sharp as broken glass, and he'd been too slow to avoid one particularly vicious swipe of the monster's tail.

"Oh gees... I haven't had a work-out like that in months..." Zell stretched his arms back behind him, trying to work the kinks out of his back. "It suddenly makes me feel unfit." His t-shirt pulled taut across his chest, highlighting defined muscle, and Squall forced himself to look away.

"Despite the fact that you could still kick the ass of every single SeeD in Garden and not break a sweat? Yeah, whatever..."

"I'd break a sweat trying to kick your ass," Zell pointed out, as he neatly folded himself in half, grabbing his ankles and stretching the muscles along the backs of his legs.

There was a reply to that, Squall was sure, but the appropriate one wasn't the one hovering on the tip of his tongue. Swallowing the words, he cleared his throat softly.

Catching the faint sound, Zell straightened up, and caught the tail end of the bewildered expression on Squall's face, and their earlier conversation seemed to swing back at him with a nasty sting.

"I didn't mean anything by that," he snapped in exasperation. "Hyne, that's why I didn't tell you sooner. Cos people start interpreting things differently, and perfectly innocent statements suddenly become... lecherous and suggestive. And that's not cool."

Squall stared back at him, at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? He _had_ interpreted Zell's statement to include a lewd suggestion, but not through any disapproval or defensiveness. Rather, it was through an intense - though maybe misguided - desire for Zell to actually feel that way about him. But the idea that he might... could... one day feel that way... was still too new and strange to voice out loud. But the alternative – placating statements to say the thought hadn't even crossed his mind – was too plainly a lie to even consider sneaking it past Zell. And he was still standing there, regarding Squall with a defensive, accusing glare. "I know you didn't mean anything by it," Squall said softly, finally. "And I have absolutely no problem with you being gay." He looked Zell straight in the eye as he spoke, and there was no doubting his words were the honest truth. "I was... surprised," he admitted, after a pause. "But not through any... disgust, or fear."

Into the tense silence, Squall's intercom crackled to life. "Commander Leonhart? Xu here."

Squall glanced down at the device, that back at Zell, tense irritation showing clearly in his expression. Of all the possible times she could have called him... "Squall here. Go ahead Xu."

"Commander Leonhart, a mission request has just been received from Esthar. President Laguna is still on the line, and wishes to speak with you."

A soft expletive escaped from Squall's lips. "Alright. I'm on my way to the bridge. I'll take the call in my office."

"Thank you sir. I'll let him know. Xu out."

"I gotta go," Squall said unnecessarily, turning his attention back to Zell. He stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to end their conversation without leaving an uncomfortable mess. "Thanks for the fight," he said finally.

Zell chuckled, waving for Squall to get going. "No problem, babe. Anytime. Don't want to keep Daddy waiting," he threw in, just for the pleasure of watching Squall get annoyed. Despite him and Laguna having called a truce, they still had their moments. Quite frequently, really, if Zell was any judge of such matters.

"Fuck you," Squall threw back at him, with a look of good-natured exasperation.

Zell watched with a smile as Squall moved quickly towards the training centre exit, lithe muscles moving smoothly and powerfully. Once he had cleared the heavy metal doors, a faint breath of a word escaped from Zell's lips. "Anytime."

"Attention all SeeDs. Would the following members please report to level 3 immediately." Halfway through breakfast in the cafeteria, Zell's ears pricked up at the announcement. Partly because SeeDs were wired that way – announcements calling for the attention of all SeeDs meant someone had put in a request for a serious mission deployment – and partly because it had been over 18 hours since he had last heard Squall's voice. "Mazen... Coombs... Tilmitt... Dincht..." Three seconds later, Zell had inhaled the remains of his breakfast and was double timing it to the door. He barely paused to toss his tray in the return slot, then broke into a sprint, heading for the elevator.

Four minutes later, fourteen SeeDs were gathered in the level 3 office, along with Headmaster Cid. "Thank you for arriving promptly," Squall began, causing Zell to bite back a chuckle. A year ago, Squall would never have thought to thank SeeD for being on time. They were SeeD – that's what they did. But he had come a long way in a year – far enough to be grateful that SeeD still did what it had been trained to do – follow orders, with razor sharp accuracy, fast enough to make your head spin. Behind Squall, a large screen was illuminated with a map of the Esthar continent.

"Approximately eighteen hours ago, Esthar put in a mission request for fifteen SeeDs. President Loire wishes to reclaim some of the desert area west of Esthar City for domestic use. The stretch of land he is particularly interested in is this corridor between Esthar City and the former Lunatic Pandora Laboratory." Squall turned to indicate the area in question. "This undertaking is being complicated by the presence of a high density of monsters, due to the recent Lunar Cry. Esthar's intention is to erect a barrier surrounding a narrow strip of land, roughly five miles across, and extending from the north eastern city gate to the laboratory. SeeDs involvement in this operation will be twofold. Initially, we will be split into five teams. Each team will be assigned to a group of technicians, whose job it will be to erect the barrier, in sections. You job will be to prevent any monsters in the area from interfering with the technician's work. Following the completion of the barrier, SeeD will be deployed in force, to scout the entire area enclosed by the barrier, and eliminate all monsters from within it. The entire operation is expected to take around three months. As such, teams will be rotated in and out of service. Before we leave, you will be given an information package which will include a schedule of your rotations. Also included will be information about the types of monsters you will encounter in the Great Esthar Plains, their strengths, weaknesses, status effects, and so forth. Please study the information closely before you arrive in Esthar.

"President Loire has also arranged accommodation for our teams in the Presidential Palace. A transport will take you to and from the city gate each day. Shifts are expected to last from sunrise to sunset, pending confirmation from the Esthar technicians. President Loire will be arriving to pick us up in the Ragnarok in the field in front of Garden at 1200 hours. Any questions?"

"Commander?" Selphie asked, maintaining her stance at attention.

"Selphie?"

"Is Quistis not coming on this mission?" For anyone else, it would have sounded impertinent, but coming from Selphie, it was simple camaraderie in action.

"Not at this time," Squall replied firmly. "She will be used in one of the later rotations, but she's not going in the initial deployment." Had they been in less formal surroundings, or had less of an audience, he might have explained that he wanted at least one of their group on the field at all times – just in case anything unexpected came up. Who knew when some new monster might come crawling out of the woodwork and stir things up. By the time Quistis had finished her rotation, Irvine and Selphie would have had a break off the field, and be ready to return to active duty. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I've got a question." It was Zell who spoke up this time, and Squall fought down a smirk at his complete lack of proper forms of address. "During our downtime, will we be sent back to Garden, or be staying in Esthar?"

He could be wrong, but Zell thought Squall looked ever so slightly surprised at the question. "That will depend on other mission deployments. In theory, you'll be allowed to choose whether to stay or go. It would be more convenient if you stayed in Esthar, of course. But if other missions require SeeD, you may be ordered to return to Garden for redeployment."

Squall paused, waiting for any other concerns to be raised, and when the group had nothing more to say, he saluted them sharply. "Assemble in front of Garden at 1145 for final mission briefing. Please read through your information packs before then. Dismissed."

"I heard the announcement earlier. Where are you going?"

Squall paused in the process of packing his travel bag. Rinoa. At his elbow. Again. Maybe he should change the lock code on his door.

"Esthar." Squall let the silence resume for a beat, then continued the explanation that would have to come sooner or later. "Laguna's hired fifteen SeeDs to help their technicians reclaim a patch of desert land east of Esthar city. I'm heading up the team. It'll be a long assignment." He schooled his voice into a soft, apologetic tone. "The whole thing will last about three months, though everyone involved should get some time off in between." He looked up at her affectionately. "So you won't be without me for the whole three months," he told her, letting a warm longing creep into his eyes. If he had his way, an unexpected emergency would prevent him from returning to Garden at all during the length of the contract, but she didn't need to know that. There was always the possibility that Garden itself would have an emergency that required his attention, so he shouldn't start counting his chickens just yet. "It'll be a pretty intense time. We leave in an hour."

"An hour?" Rinoa folded her arms in annoyance. "And when were you planning on telling me about this?"

Squall stopped, his hand halfway to his pack. "I'm telling you now. That's why I asked you to come to my quarters."

"When did you find out about this mission?" Rinoa demanded, and Squall flinched internally at her tone. A complaint was coming his way – loud and long, by all expectations. Hyne, if he could just last out the hour…

"About this time yesterday."

"What? You've known that you were leaving the country for weeks at a time, for a whole day, and you haven't mentioned it?"

The obvious answer was 'Yes.' The slightly less obvious, but more accurate one was 'SeeD is trained to be ready for a mission in just over ten minutes… you're getting a whole hour's notice and you don't even have to go anywhere. What's your problem?' But that reply was dismissed even before he'd put the idea into words. She would never understand it. She had never understood the way SeeD worked…

And then there was the _right_ answer. "Rinoa," he turned to her, trying to look sympathetic, though the idea grated badly. "I'm Commander of the entire Garden. For the past 24 hours I've been on the phone to Laguna twelve times, I've sifted through the entire SeeD employment roll and planned team deployments, I've planned transportation and accommodation services for SeeD for the next three months and I've briefed Xu on how to run Garden while I'm away." He had also attempted to get some sleep, eat at least two sensible meals, and spent no less than 97 minutes fantasising about Zell. "This is what I do. Garden – being Commander of Garden – is a huge part of my life. And SeeD can be sent on missions on a lot less than 24 hours notice. You've always known that."

Rinoa huffed angrily at him. "For regular SeeDs, that may be the case, but you're the commander. Why can't you just roster yourself on later, or tell someone else to go?"

Squall stared blankly at her while angry thoughts rolled through his mind. Why? Because SeeD didn't work that way? Because he refused to take special privileges just because he had the power to do so. That kind of decision was the first step down a rocky road towards power abuse. He had always watched with incensed disapproval when leaders thought they deserved to be treated better than their followers, and he refused to become that kind of leader… because it was a very short step from there to becoming a dictator, constantly focused on his own self-interests at the expense of the people who worked for, and trusted him. And he had seen enough of that type of brutality to last a lifetime.

Besides which, he was a SeeD, first and foremost, and this – this last minute rush, this improvised battle-readiness, this moment-to-moment action - was what he lived for. Why in Hyne's name would he roster himself out of the battle zone? Finally, his tumultuous thoughts found words. "So you're saying I should plan my own missions around what's convenient for _you_?" He'd just grabbed the tiger by the tail, but Hyne help him if he was going to let that one slide.

"No, that's not what I said," Rinoa denied hotly.

"Then what did you say?"

"That you should have more consideration for the people that these decisions affect. You don't have to go on missions at short notice. Esthar isn't going to collapse if SeeD doesn't arrive in the next five minutes."

No, but their contract might… SeeD was hired on its reputation of getting there fast, and getting the job done. No matter what. "SeeD – and Garden, and not least of all, me, have no problem at all with this mission. Or with doing things in a hurry with little or no notice. You, on the other hand, seem to be the only one having a problem with it. So you are, in fact, saying I should be thinking about your convenience rather than everyone else's."

Rinoa looked like he had just slapped her. "Have you ever asked anyone in SeeD if they want to drop everything and run off on a mission? Do you give them a choice? Maybe you'd be surprised if you actually bothered to find out what other people think."

"They're SeeD. That's what they do. No one joins SeeD if they want a relaxed life, that's the whole point."

"Well _I_ didn't sign up for this," Rinoa protested angrily. "I'd like some notice if my boyfriend's going to run off halfway across the world, no matter what career you have, or who's asking you to go. And I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to expect."

Squall stared at her. What possible reply could he give her? She lived on a completely different planet from him. "Fine. Whatever."

She looked at him expectantly. "So change the mission roster. Tell them you'll take a later shift."

Squall returned her look steadily, and raised an eyebrow. "No."

"What? You're being completely unreasonable!"

"Rinoa, this is not a question. It's not a debate, it's not a negotiation. It's my life. Deal with it."

There were tears in her eyes. This was crazy. If he could just get out of here, just get away from her for a few days, maybe he would be able to think clearly, and figure out where this whole mess had gone wrong. Maybe he could figure out what he wanted. If he could just have some time to himself…

"I can't believe you, Squall. I thought you'd changed. I thought you had actually learnt to care about people. I thought you cared about me." The tears spilled over. "I guess I was wrong. I'm just the silly girl who sits on the sidelines. I guess I'm not important enough to be considered in your decisions." Sobs torn from her throat, Rinoa fled the room.

"Squall! Good to see you, my boy!"

"Laguna." Squall stepped forward to shake his father's hand as he descended the ramp from the Ragnarok, aware of the attention of the crowd of SeeDs behind him. "We're ready to leave as soon as you like."

"Already?" Laguna checked his watch, which told him there was a full 7 minutes to go before 12:00. And then he gave Squall a wry look. "All work and no play makes Squall a dull boy."

Squall shrugged casually. "We're SeeD. It's what we do."

Laguna chuckled. "Right, right. Well, no point just standing around then. Let's get these troops on board." And then he paused, and peered past Squall to see something beyond his vision. "Rinoa! Long time no see, Princess!"

Squall whipped around, a sudden weight settling in his gut. And on the heals of that feeling was the sinking realisation that she had a large travel bag hooked over one shoulder. Hyne, no...

Unaware of Squall's sudden panic, Laguna hurried to meet Rinoa, giving her a warm hug. "How are you, girl? I didn't expect you to be coming along. Though you're more than welcome, of course!"

Rinoa smiled. "Well, since Squall insists on working himself into an early grave, I figured the least I could do was come along to keep him company. He said it would be a long mission this time." She spoke with an air of child-like naivety. "I was hoping there would be enough room for me?"

"Of course! Not like we're going to run out of beds at the palace. That is, uh..." Laguna leaned close to Rinoa, affording a smidgen of privacy from the watching SeeDs, "that is unless you and Squall would rather... share a room?"

He should say something, Squall knew. This was his one chance to say something, or put up with Rinoa living in his pocket for the next three months. He should say he would be working long hours, or talk about 5am starts... or just say plainly that he wanted his own space. But the words stuck in his throat, and unbidden, the great dark wave of his own emptiness rose up within him. Don't feel. Don't think, don't object, don't let her matter. Nothing mattered. Not the mission, not Rinoa, not his burgeoning relationship with his father. He glanced across to where Zell stood, waiting with the rest of the crew for the order to board the ship, and even that image of sleek muscular intensity failed to rouse a spark of interest. He felt nothing. And by the time thought and feeling and old fashioned common sense returned to him, it would be too late to kick her out of his life.

"How about that, Squall!" Laguna was crowing cheerfully. "Not too many people can say they've got a girlfriend willing to travel halfway across the world for them! Damn, you're a lucky lad."

He was damned. Some pixie or faery had cursed him from birth, and was determined to drive him stark raving mad. And, Squall told himself harshly, the sooner he accepted that poor dismal fate, the better.

Hurray! The fic has finally grown wings! Plot bunnies just pop out of the ground all by themselves, the characters have formed opinions of their own, and I feel like I'm just along for the ride. I love this stage of fic writing! And wonderful people keep giving me feedback to refine the plot bunnies! Yay!

As you can probably tell, feedback is always appreciated.

Well, I've gone and done it now... I seem to have picked up a Squinoa fan along the way. I suppose that's what I get for writing a fic with a Squall-Rinoa pairing... no matter how terrible that relationship is.

Emerald-Latias: Um... ok. Not the kind of review I usually get, but I appreciate the encouragement all the same. :) Though if you have any expectation of this turning into a happy jolly 'Squall gets with x girl to form happy jolly heterosexual relationship', you will be sadly disappointed.

Eli: A few more hints from Zell in this chapter? Hopefully his motives will become clearer as we go along. But if you think back to DasR, Squall wasn't at all into Zell until they suddenly got together, so I reserve the right to mess with people's expectations of Zell. In a good way. I think. Hehe. I think maybe Rinoa did have more to say about Squall saying 'Fuck you', but I leave that up to the reader's imagination.

Vitreous Mistress: Down with Rinoa! Hurrah!

Guenhwyvar: hugs Hope you feel better! Glad you like the way the characters are going. And as always, the muses appreciate the cookies :)

Kitty Kyinsky: Um… I think that was a good review? I suppose I don't have more reviews because some of my lovely fans write directly to my e-mail address, rather than reviewing through the web site… that's my guess, at least :)

Zierra: Quite a few people have said the sex was hot… so many, in fact, that I had to go back and re-read ch6 to try and figure out what I did that was so noteworthy. snerk Hopefully I can put in an equal performance when Squall and Zell actually get together. (Everyone's figured that out by now, right? I'm not giving away any plot secrets?) Squall needs a little competition? Please, do tell… what did you have in mind?


	8. Chapter 8

And Time Again

By teach me to declare the fic has grown wings... the instant I do I don't get writing for three weeks. Darn it...

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 8. If I did, do you think I would be wearing a sweater that was over 10 years old? (Actually, I probably would, because I really like it, but that's not my point, now is it?)

Rated M.

Chapter 8

Zell slid into his seat in the Rok's conference room, and breathed a small sigh of relief. He had been worried there for a moment. All morning, he had been contemplating the prospect of spending the next three months working with Squall, living next door to him in the palace, eating together, fighting together, with no sign of Rinoa being there to stop him doing something crazy. Like sneaking into Squall's room at night and offering to give the Lion a massage... It hadn't been looking good. Admittedly, Squall didn't seem too happy about Rinoa following him around like a lost puppy, but at least this way, he would be forced to acknowledge and respect the boundaries of their relationship.

Zell stared out the window as the Rok's engines surged to life, and the ship began to rise gracefully into the air. They had been fighting their way out of the Desert Prison the first time he had really acknowledged the way he felt about Squall. He had always held a certain kind of awed admiration for the stoic boy, but since Squall had treated him as little more than an annoying irritation, he'd never put any great amount of thought into the idea. But then they'd been put on a team together, fighting the sorceress, saving each other's lives... and a whole jumble of possibilities had sprung to life. And then, Squall had chosen Zell to go with him to save Garden. And in the days while they'd drifted over the ocean, he'd had time to re-examine his own feelings...

But then, before he could summon up the courage to do anything about it, Squall had started taking an interest in Rinoa, cutting off all Zell's plans of attack. He had proved that he was not only straight, which made things from Zell's side of the fence completely futile, but he was also unavailable. Zell had always lived by his own strict moral code, and breaking up other people's relationships for his own selfish gain had always been firmly on his 'Don't even think about it' list.

So the only other option was to go back to where he'd been for years – quiet admiration for a terrific guy, with absolutely no consideration of it ever going further than that. And that would be fine. That _was_ fine. But somehow, it would be a whole lot finer if Squall was dating someone he actually gave a damn about.

Because it was difficult. It was so damn hard sitting back, watching Rinoa walk all over Squall because he was so desperate for some kind of connection with another human being. He had been desperately alone for so long. And now he was kidding himself into thinking that connecting with another person necessarily meant putting up with the kind of crap Rinoa kept shoveling down his throat, and that somehow, that was supposed to make him happy. He made compromise after compromise, in the hope of holding onto something he didn't want, because he was scared that if he gave it up, he would never have another chance to get that close to someone.

And there was a very real danger that by the time Rinoa had finished with him, he would be so damaged that he'd never give anyone else another chance. That he'd never give Zell a chance...

Except that he was straight, so Zell was wasting his time anyway.

Whatever...

"So it's important that you avoid using any lightening attacks near the fence, as its circuitry could pick up the static charge and electrocute other workers as far as five hundred metres away. That goes for GFs, as well. And just one final point... none of our technicians have any junctions, weapons or battle experience, so please don't expect them to do any of the fighting. No matter what you run into, they're going to be depending on you to keep them alive. I think that wraps it up. The trip to Esthar should take another three hours, so please make yourselves comfortable." Laguna beamed at the SeeDs seated around him in the conference room, then excused himself, catching Squall's eye as he made his way to the exit.

"Kiros and Ward are up in the cockpit," he said quietly, when he reached Squall. "How about coming up to say hello?"

"Whatever." Squall pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against.

"Ooh, is Kiros flying?" Rinoa piped up, having been sitting close enough to Squall to have heard Laguna's suggestion. "Could I come up and say hi? I never got to spend much time in the cockpit before..."

Laguna smiled gently. "Maybe next time. Sorry Rinoa, but Ward's flying this time. He gets a little nervous if too many people are watching what he's doing."

"Oh." Halfway out of her seat, Rinoa looked surprised, and offended. "Well..."

"Next time, Princess," Laguna repeated cheerfully, as he ushered Squall out of the room, ignoring the injured look on Rinoa's face.

"Sorry Squall, but now isn't a good time for her to be upstairs," Laguna apologised, when the doors were shut again, pre-empting any comment Squall might have made. "You've known Ward for long enough to know he has no problem with flying, but we have some business to discuss. And it was the first excuse I could come up with," he finished weakly.

Squall shrugged. "No need to apologise to me," he replied generously. "I know what it's like trying to think on your feet." Goodness knows he'd had enough practice at coming up with last second excuses to get away from Rinoa.

The dry sarcasm earned him a sideways look from Laguna, though he didn't make any comment. "So tell me Squall," he switched topics, as they climbed onto the elevator. "How's Garden been doing lately?"

"Good," Squall replied shortly. "We've got another six SeeDs ready to rotate on in two weeks time, and three on standby, in case we need..."

"Wait, hang on, hang on..." Laguna interrupted with a laugh. "You need a holiday, Squall. I asked you how Garden was going, not how you were going to fulfill my contract."

Squall stopped, looking genuinely confused, and Laguna felt a strange mix of amusement and pain. Hyne, how could he have ignored his own child for so long that he couldn't even carry on a simple conversation?

"How are you?" Laguna clarified his question. "How are your friends? How is the giant machine that keeps our world at relative peace?"

Squall blinked. "Good. Garden's good. We've had a fair few new enrolments... since the war..." This was not entirely a good thing, as Garden had originally started out as an orphanage, before it developed SeeD, and therefore most of its new recruits were still orphans. Now though, they were orphans of war and violence, rather than the natural attrition of the human race. "Trabia is getting back on its feet, and they've said they'd like some of the new students up that way. My friends are... well, I think they're doing well. Considering we just fought a war to protect the entire time/space continuum and the life expectancy of a SeeD is around 30."

"And you're okay with that?" Laguna asked, genuinely concerned, though he wouldn't dream of suggesting they consider a different career path, or put in for an early retirement.

"Yeah," Squall replied lightly. "Now we only go out and get blind drunk once a week instead of every other night."

Laguna snorted, then broke out into a full, hearty laugh. "I can well believe it." They had reached the door to the cockpit, but before they entered it, Laguna stopped and turned to Squall. "I, er... I wanted to thank you for coming at such short notice. I mean you personally, for this... side-quest. I know SeeD is usually very efficient, but it was good of you to make time, none the less."

If he'd been in a better mood, Squall might have admitted to being damn curious about the covert extra 'something' that Laguna had asked him to help them with. But he wasn't in a better mood, nor was he likely to be for many weeks to come, so he dismissed the gratitude with the standard "Whatever." Entering the cockpit, he acknowledged Kiros and Ward with a cursory nod. "Okay, so what's the big secret?"

"Conversational, isn't he?" Kiros commented dryly. "We're well. Esthar's readjusting very well to being part of the global economy. The President is still a nut case. Thank you for asking!" Kiros told him cheerfully. "Oh, and by the way, we have a favour to ask of you that involves our nation's security, which we hope you'll agree to swear to take to your grave, or we'll be forced to kill you."

That one was just amusing enough to tickle Squall's sense of humour. "Kill me? You and whose army?"

"Well..." Kiros shrugged with an air of nonchalance. "Laguna can fantasise about it, at least. While you're here, though," he went on, marching swiftly over Laguna's cry of protest, "why don't we fill you in. I amuse Laguna got around to mentioning this... favour?"

Squall sighed. "He mentioned something about that on the phone. But apparently the details were too highly classified to be discussed through that channel. So again: What's the big secret?"

"Well, it's reasonably simple. In theory, at least," Kiros began. Laguna had clearly delegated the task of explaining the problem to him. "You went to the Esthar fair. To the boat show. So you would have read about the theory of Draw points located on the ocean floor, and seen the new contraption we have that detects those points." Squall nodded briefly. "The information presented to the public," Kiros went on, "was... inaccurate. Or incomplete, maybe..."

"This is a fancy way of saying you were lying," Squall summed up his prevarication swiftly.

Laguna managed to look suitable chastised. "I suppose it wouldn't count for much if I claimed it was for the common good?" Squall's expression answered the question most eloquently. "I know, you have some refined opinions about the abuse of power and all that jazz... Well. Let's explain the research we've done so far, and then maybe you'll adjust your opinion. The truth of the matter is that we have found a way to harvest the magic. Some of it was the same as found in land-based draw points, but there were four significant new types."

"Four?" Squall repeated with a raised eyebrow. The display at the boat show had said three, and he could see that both men were remembering that detail. There must have been a good reason for hiding the existence of the fourth type, and Squall would have admitted to a stir of curiosity, deep within himself.

"Although we've collected a number of each of the spells," Kiros picked up the thread of the explanation again, "we have so far not been able to test them to see what they do."

"Ah." That answered that question. And the answer was far less exciting than Squall had hoped. Presumably, they were going to ask him to test the spells for them. "Any standard junction system should be able to give you some basic information. A ball-park figure for the strength of the spell, and which element it's derived from."

"In theory, yes," Kiros agreed. "Uh... Unfortunately, the practical side of things didn't work out quite that way." He paused, looking concerned as he chose his next words carefully. "One of our technicians attempted to junction one of the magic spells, and it landed him in hospital for three weeks."

"What GF was he junctioning?" Squall's mind was already analysing the problem, sifting through two years worth of intense battle experience, and the question tumbled off his lips without a second thought.

Laguna was silent for a moment, and Squall waited impatiently for him to answer the question. "A level 17 ice GF. Taking into consideration that that was the highest level GF we possess," he added, perhaps suspecting that the GF was about to be pronounced inadequate.

"And how much battle experience did he have?"

"He was an officer in the Esthar army, before he requested to be reassigned to the lab. It had been a few years since he was on active duty, but he still registered as level 21."

"Did he have any other magic junctions to cushion the effects of the new magic?"

Laguna blinked at him, and decided that now was the time to point out the detail Squall had missed. "Squall, the man wasn't trying to cast the magic. He was drawing it. He was trying to store it in a junction system, and it put him in hospital for three weeks."

Squall stopped on an indrawn breath, his next comment forgotten as Laguna's revelation registered, and his own draws – numbering into the thousands by now, flitted through his mind. With the magic completely contained within the junction system, none of them had caused so much as a ripple in the physical world. "That's impossible."

Laguna nodded, and shrugged. "I agree. Completely impossible. But it happened."

Squall's expression became once again calculating and severe. "Was..."

"The junction system was checked and used after that event," Kiros jumped in, anticipating his next question. "It's in perfect working order. It couldn't have malfunctioned."

"I see." Squall arched one eyebrow. "So in light of my extensive experience with magic and junctions, you'd like me to test it for you? And hope that I don't get fried in the process."

"I offered to test it myself," Laguna muttered sheepishly, "but Kiros said no."

"Along with every single scientist in the program," Kiros added, though he doubted that Squall required the apology. They both knew that more was at stake than Laguna's life, should he be injured. An entire continent relied on his leadership.

Squall felt a smirk twitching at the corner of his lip. They couldn't risk the President, but they would willingly risk the life of his son. On the pro side of the argument, he had more battle experience than anyone else on the planet, he junctioned three level 100 GFs and had more spells to cushion the impact of a magical surge than the average army platoon, but at the end of the day, there was still the amusing fact that they were willing to ask him to risk his life on an experiment that they themselves wouldn't touch. And he found himself having absolutely no problem saying yes to the entire crazy plan. There was probably something deeply ironic in that, if he could only work out what it was.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Laguna broke in, apparently having been worn down by the prolonged silence. "And you have every right to say--"

"I'll do it."

Laguna gaped at him for a moment. "What?"

"I said I'll do it. On condition that it doesn't interfere with this contract, and doesn't risk the lives of any of my SeeDs."

"Ok." Strangely, Laguna looked decidedly less than happy with the arrangement. "Um... deal."

Feedback is like chocolate. There's no such thing as too much.

Thank you to Vitreous Mistress and Kitty for the reviews!

Guen: The muses thank you for the chocolates. I keep changing my mind about whether to draw this out forever, or just throw Squall and Zell into bed together... Curse my indecisiveness!

Sarah: hugs Rinoa is just so awful. sob Poor Squall. (Never mind that I'm the one writing the fic. snerk) Someone else trying to get into Zell's pants... Hmm... I'll pass that on to the muses, and see what they make of it. :)


	9. Chapter 9

And Time Again

By I don't own Final Fantasy 8. I don't have enough money to buy cheese. You're wasting your time here, if you're looking for wealth...

Rated M.

Chapter 9

Laguna watched his son brood as they rode the elevator down to the lower deck. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. Who knew what Squall's problem would be, anyway? The boy was harder to read than the Spanish edition of Timber Maniacs. "Squall, I know it wasn't fair to ask you to do this."

Squall looked up at him, an expression of blank confusion on his face. "Huh?"

"It's not that we don't value your life..." Laguna winced at the way that sounded. "We do. Squall... I do. You're my son..." The admission came out filled with the longing for years lost, and Squall had to take a step back – literally – at the quiet force of the emotion in it. "But sometimes... I have to make decisions that aren't about people... I mean, they're about people, but people in general – the country – rather than specific individuals, and... well I don't want you to think I don't care just because we asked you to take a risk for us--"

"Laguna."

"I know you make the same kind of decisions--"

"Laguna..."

"So I'm hoping that you understand the way I have to think sometimes--"

"Laguna!"

"But you do have the most experience in this kind of thing--"

"For Hyne's sake, shut up!"

"What?"

"Shut up! Hyne above, you could talk the hind leg off a behemoth."

The elevator had stopped on the lower level.

"Oh. Well, I... uh... Hm."

"What—"

"It's just that you've been... Since I arrived in Balamb today, you've been..."

"Moody?" Squall hazarded a guess. Just a stab in the dark, really...

"Yes! And I thought we were making progress, you know, with the whole father-son thing... not that I expect everything to be perfect, not by a long shot, but we were both making an effort, and now today you're barely speaking to me, unless it's about work, and it bothers me that I've done something to make us take two steps backwards, and you're not bothering to tell me what it is."

Squall shook his head. "You're not the problem," he snapped quickly, hoping to close the subject before it opened.

"So there is a problem then?" Laguna crowed, in a rare moment of insight.

"Hyne above, when do I ever interfere in _your_ life?"

Laguna considered that for a moment. "That's not the point. I worry about you, Squall. And I don't expect you to worry about me because I have Kiros and Ward doing plenty of that already, but you... I know, you have Rinoa, and I thank Hyne for that, but... the girl's heart's in the right place, but I doubt she could actually stop you doing something stupid if it really came to it, so I think I have the right to worry a little."

They were still standing on the elevator platform, Laguna's arms folded in a stubborn set – a mirror image of his son's own stance.

"Hyne. No. Laguna..." Squall stepped off the platform, turning to his father in exasperation.

"How's Garden going?" Laguna pressed, looking for another shred of truth that he could work on.

"Garden's fine," Squall replied shortly.

"And how are your friends getting along?"

"They're fine, and haven't we been through this already?"

"How's it going with that girl of yours?"

"I don't want to talk about it." If Squall had been aiming for cool disinterest, he failed miserably.

Laguna smiled softly, a knowing look in his eyes. "That well, huh?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay."

Squall waited a beat, sure there would be some further snare waiting for him, but Laguna stayed suspiciously quiet. "Fine," Squall finished finally, hoping that was, in fact, the end of it.

He had just turned to head into the conference room, when Laguna spoke again. "Your mother wasn't thrilled with me, at first." Involuntarily, Squall spun around to face him. "Well, that would be an understatement. She thought I was a pain in the ass. Used to call me all kinds of fool for some of the stunts I got up to in Winhill."

"I remember."

"What?" The look of happy nostalgia on Laguna's face vanished to be replaced by alarmed confusion until he remembered. "Oh, right, the whole Ellone-time-dream-world thingy, right?"

"Right."

"Yeah. She was... well, it took us a while to figure out how we felt about each other, but after we finally did, she admitted to me that she'd felt something all along. I won't say it was love. Not at first. But there was something, some kind of caring, or affection, right from the start."

"Did you... care about her. From the start?" Despite his stance remaining rigid and closed off, there was something wistful in his son's voice that made Laguna rethink the flippant reply that had initially sprung to mind. Deciding that this was perhaps not the most private place for a chat, Laguna waved his head in the direction of the door, and led them out into the main hall of the Ragnarok. The engines were louder here, the floor vibrating in cadence with the machinery, and, checking to see that Squall was still with him, Laguna sat down on the staircase, waving for Squall to follow suit.

"When I first arrived in Winhill I was too absorbed with my own injuries to spend two seconds thinking about Raine, and how much of her time I was taking up. And then, once I'd managed to think about something beyond the edge of my bed, I got to worrying about Kiros and Ward, and the freakish things we saw in the Lunatic Pandora, and Raine somehow slipped my mind again. So no, I'd have to say it took me a darn sight longer to realise that she existed. Apart from in the most rudimentary way, I mean." A faint smile floated over his face, then chose to stay. "But once I saw her... Well, she got my attention pretty quick, let me tell you. And then I got all worried that I wasn't good enough for her... I was a soldier! She was a country girl, and I didn't want to expose her to all that danger and violence, and I was just as likely to get back on the road and keep traveling one day..." Laguna trailed off, as they both remembered how that particular story had ended...

"She was a spitfire, though," Laguna picked up the narrative again, with some effort. "We used to argue... She gave as good as she got. Better, mostly. But she always said... she knew there was something different about me. And even... well, she never tried to stop me leaving. Sometimes I wonder... if she knew she was pregnant then. And if I'd have stayed, if she'd asked me to."

"You wouldn't have," Squall said firmly. "You had to find Ellone. You couldn't have lived with yourself if you'd left her to her fate. But maybe... Maybe you'd have come back afterwards, if you'd known."

"Hm. I guess you're right."

There was an awkward pause, and then Squall took a deep breath. "Not that I'm complaining, but... was there a point to this story?"

"Yes! Yes, the point, Squall... Your mother and I didn't get along right away. You're bound to go through some hard times, in any relationship, because it takes time. You have to let the little feelings you start with grow into big solid mature feelings, and there are going to be speed bumps along the way, but you have to keep looking at the bigger picture."

There was a pause again. "That's it? That's your relationship advice?"

Laguna shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Hyne preserve us... it's a miracle I was ever even conceived, the way you go about things..." Squall got up, giving his backside a cursory dusting. From the looks of it, the 'Rok hadn't had a good clean since he'd handed it back to Laguna after Time Compression.

He turned, to see his father giving him a strange look.

"What?"

"Say, you didn't ever..." Laguna mused, his cheeks turning a faint pink colour.

"What?"

"She didn't ever send you back when..."

"When what?"

"Well... when Raine and I were... uh..."

"Huh?" Then suddenly, it clicked. "Oh Hyne, No! For fuck's sake, Laguna!"

"Well, I just wondered." Laguna shrugged. "I mean, I never really understood how much control Ellone had over all the whole time travel thing, so..."

"That is disgusting."

"It would be a bit odd, wouldn't it," Laguna agreed cheerfully. "Let's get back to the conference room before they send out a search party."

"Now this is the kind of assignment I could get used to," Zell crowed cheerfully, throwing himself onto a sofa in the guest lounge. "Real beds, fine Palace food, our very own pool table... Sign me up, baby!"

"Let me hear you say that after a week of dawn starts," Irvine returned drawled lazily, sprawled out in the opposite sofa. "Hell, two weeks without a break. What was Squall thinking?"

"Yeah, but think of all the overtime we get paid," Laith Mazen said from the fridge, where he was searching through the supplies for anything made of chocolate. Laith had made SeeD two months before Zell and Squall had, and Zell had a vague memory of fighting with him... or near him, at least, when Galbadia Garden had attacked Balamb Garden. "Two weeks solid, dawn till dusk is at least..." he did a quick mental calculation "forty hours on overtime rates. If not more." He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "At that price, it's worth collapsing from sleep-deprivation... sort of..."

"Consider yourself lucky," Zell snorted. "I'm on the first three week rotation. Twenty one days of thirteen hour shifts... Hyne! Uhh! Hey Squall!" Zell called cheerfully as Squall stepped into the room, trying to cover the fact that he had just been complaining about his assignment. For all the professionalism of a fully fledged SeeD, they were, after all, teenagers, and complaining about life went with the territory.

Usually – even in his darker moods – Squall would have made some wry comment about Zell's attitude. Today, though, Zell caught the tail end of a wounded expression before Squall simply ignored the issue.

"Come to check out the guest accommodation?" Zell asked, trying to change the subject... or non-subject, since Squall wasn't talking about it. "You have you own room in the residential wing, right?"

"When I'm here on a social trip, yes," Squall replied blandly. "This is business. I'm in the room next to yours, apparently," he told Zell.

What he actually meant, Zell realised, was that he refused to be treated any different from the rest of SeeD. Having his own suite – a rather nice suite, from what Zell had seen, with a queen-size bed, ensuite and private lounge room – would set a bad example and would be, in Squall's terms at least, a misuse of privilege.

"So," Selphie chirped, giving Squall a teasing smile. "Did you come to tell us all to be sensible and get some sleep? Be well rested for the big day tomorrow?"

"No. Just thought I'd see where everyone was," he replied flatly. Hyne, he must be in a shit of a mood if he couldn't even be nice to Selphie. Three months of Rinoa breathing down his neck... he couldn't do it... A wave of fiery dread rose up in his throat, only to be pushed forcefully down again. There had to be a way out...

His gaze drifted over Zell, as he tried to control the rising panic, but instead of the peace that so often accompanied the presence of Zell's compact body, Squall felt a surge of longing so powerful it knocked the wind out of him, much like a punch in the guts... and he forced himself to look elsewhere. Which meant that his gaze settled on Laith, who had abandoned the fridge and was now trying to appear inconspicuous behind the sofas. Though he had developed enough confidence to look Squall in the eye now and then, he remained deeply in awe of his Commander.

"What kind of magic are you junctioning?" Squall asked suddenly, causing Laith to start in surprise, when he realised the once-over Squall had been giving him.

"Uh... I'm level 25," he stammered, automatically accessing his magic inventory on his battle meter. "I've got a stack of Blizzara, Fira, Thundara, a couple of Curagas but mainly Curas, a pretty good range of status effects..."

"Do you have any Death?" From the corner of his eyes, Squall saw Zell perk up suddenly. He ignored him.

Laith blinked. "No..."

"What about Life?"

"A hundred Lifes."

"Full-life?"

If he had been paying more attention, Squall would have noticed the faintly dazed look on Laith's face. He swallowed heavily. "No, Sir."

"Uh, Squall..." Zell chose that moment as a good one to interrupt, using a soft tone of authority that most people wouldn't have dared use on the Commander. Even now, Squall had a tendency to be blinkered about missions, focusing so much on stats and strategy that he forgot there were real people behind the junction system. "Laith's at level 25." He punctuated the statement with a meaningful look, hoping Squall would pick up the hint sooner rather than later. He was pretty sure that Squall wasn't overwhelming the poor guy deliberately, but if it was difficult for Zell to remember what is was like to be so limited in their abilities and draws, he imagined it must be twice as hard for Squall. He had hit level 100 a full month ahead of anyone else, and even before that he'd been junctioning some spells powerful enough to render him almost immortal. Once he'd gotten a decent Death-Status-Attack junction, even the T-Rexes had been a walk in the park. Now if he would just stop and think for a minute, maybe Laith would escape without being asked why he didn't have enough Meteors or Flares in his arsenal...

Thankfully, the interruption had pulled Squall up. After a slight pause, he asked mildly, "And what else do you have?"

"Dispels, Esunas... the usual stuff like that."

Squall nodded. "Working with Irvine and Selphie you're going to run into a few things you haven't seen before. As soon as you hit level 30--"

"I can get Tornados and Flares from a Behemoth," Laith stated confidently, causing Zell's eyebrows to rise half an inch. "And Death and Demi from the Toramas and I should watch out for status effects from the Imps."

This time it was Squall's turn to blink. And then a small smile – if it could be called that – rose over his features. "You've been doing your homework," he murmured appreciatively.

"Yes Sir." Laith answered with an equally enigmatic smile, followed by a glance that slid sideways over Zell, almost asking for his approval. Zell could hardly keep the grin from his face. It wasn't often anyone managed to catch Squall off-guard.

Recovered from his brief lapse, Squall nodded. "Try and level up as quick as you can, so you can--" The sentence trailed off as the door suddenly slid open, and Kiros stepped quietly into the room.

"Laguna would like to see you in his office," he told Squall, when he saw that he had his attention. "As soon as you're free," he added, nodding to the clustered SeeDs.

Squall nodded. "I'll be right there." He turned back to Laith, then seemed to think better of it, and turned to where Irvine and Selphie sat on one of the sofas. "Share some of your magic around?" he said succinctly, and though it carried the tone of a command, all three people it was address to recognised it as a request, a question... and they could fulfill it by giving away as little as a single curaga, or if they were so inclined, they could pass around their entire inventory. Their spells had been collected often at the price of blood and pain, so they had earnt the right to use it as they saw fit. Even so, they all recognised that sharing their hard-won magic with the group would be for their own benefit in the end. "Nothing too powerful," Squall added, though he knew the qualification was unnecessary. "Just... give them a little head-start."

Even as the three replies came back at him, Squall was already striding for the door, moving quickly to catch up with Kiros. But at the last second, he stopped, and turned back to face the room. Zell, already tapping through his magic inventory, felt the weight of his gaze, and instinctively looked up. "Come by my quarters later, around 2200 hours," Squall murmured softly. "There's something I need to ask you about."

"Sure thing..." Before the words had even left his mouth, Squall was already gone. Despite knowing it would get him nowhere, Zell's mind immediately kicked into gear, sifting through any and every possible reason Squall could have for the late-night meeting. The mission was already laid out and set in concrete... Garden was being taken care of by Quistis and Xu at the moment... not that Zell would have been qualified for that kind of help anyway, so... something personal? It seemed unlikely. Though Squall had dropped various bits of information Zell's way lately about his private life, it was more a spur of the moment kind of thing, rather than something Squall would deliberately set out to do... but what else could there be?

"Think you're in trouble?"

The words snapped Zell out of his daze, and he was halfway out of his seat and into a fighting stance when he registered Laith as having sat down beside him. "Hyne, man, don't ever sneak up on a martial artist," he chided him softly. "That's seriously bad for my health..."

Laith grinned, and tossed a lock of hair from his eyes. "Sitting down in broad daylight is considered sneaking now? Damn, the Commander really must have rattled your cage..."

"What? Oh, no, it's probably nothing." Having found the spells he was looking for, Zell absently held out his hand for Laith's battle meter, which was duly provided. "He probably just wants to go over some rosters or strategy plans or something." Zell slotted the exchange plug into place and began dumping a series of spells into Laith's store, running over the complex workings of the meter with no more thought than he would put into brushing his teeth. "You surprised him there for a second, though, so I'd keep an eye out." At Laith's raised eyebrow, he explained himself, "If he thinks you can handle a challenge, he's likely to... throw you in the deep end. Sometimes just to see if you can actually handle it."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"No problem." Zell glanced up at Laith, with a brief, encouraging smile. "I've given you some Pains, Quakes, Tornados and Blizzagas," he rambled on as he scrolled through the magical data. "I can't give you any Ultima, cos you'd end up in a little pile of ashes if you tried to use that one right now... I don't have any Firagas, cos we dumped all of ours when we upgraded to Flares – which I also can't give you – but I have been especially generous and given you five Deaths and five Full-Lifes. I'd suggest you only use them if you run into something... unusual. Don't waste them cos they can be damn hard to get hold of. And I'm all out of Triples, but if you ask Selphie really nicely, she might give you a couple." He tilted his head across the room to where Selphie was explaining her spells to a small brunette SeeD. From memory, she was only a level 18, and her first day on the battle field would likely be an unpleasant wake-up call for her...

After he finished the exchange and unplugged the meters, Zell handed it back with a fanged grin. "Have fun in battle tomorrow. There should be enough in there to make your head spin. What GF are you junctioning?"

There was a light in Laith's eyes, just for a moment, and a hint of a tilt to his lip that anyone else would have missed. But his hand brushed against Zell's as he took the meter back, and the part of Zell's brain that wasn't preoccupied with the mission suddenly sat up and took note. Oh... well that was... interesting...

"Zephyrus. He's a level 11 wind GF."

It took Zell a moment to think of the right response... or even remember what question he had asked. "Good." The question was, what, if anything, did he want to do about it? "If he takes significant damage, we have some GF recovery Items, so just ask."

"I'll do that."

There was another pause, while the various parts of Zell's brain tried to catch up with each other. "I'd better go share out this jazz to some of the others," he excused himself finally, standing up and stepping away from the sofa. "I'll... see you round."

"I've been looking all over for you! What are you doing here in the guest wing? Instead of in your own room?"

Squall checked the clock on the wall. 9:54 Zell should be here soon. "This _is_ my room." He turned to face his girlfriend. "While SeeD is here under Esthar's employment, I'm staying with the rest of the squads."

"Why would you do that?"

"Solidarity. It creates bad morale to have the Commander getting privileges that no one else can have."

"Oh." While Rinoa's confused expression slowly shifted into a pout, Squall took a seat on his bed. "I was hoping we could spend some time together while you're here, and if you're smack in the middle of the squad of SeeDs... we're never going to get much privacy."

Squall shrugged apologetically. "Given that I'm going to be working dawn till dusk shifts, there's not likely to be much free time anyway. Sorry, but that's the kind of mission this is..." He thought about mentioning that he would also have to take extra time to spend in the office with Laguna... but given the secrecy with which Laguna had approached the topic, he decided that even obscure references to the extra assignment should be kept to a minimum. "Speaking of which, Rinoa... You know pretty much all the monsters in Esthar. And you have enough magic to deal with them effectively. What would you think about joining a team and giving SeeD a hand? I'm sure Laguna would appreciate it too."

Rinoa looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You want me to go out on the Plains of Esthar and face up to a bunch of Behemoths and Imps?" The expression turned wounded. "Are you out of your mind?"

While he hadn't expected rampant enthusiasm, Squall had been hoping for a slightly more positive response than this one. "I'm serious, Rinoa," he said, gently, firmly. "You have more that enough battle experience to take on a Behemoth, plus the fact that the highest level SeeD below you is at level 31. You're on 86. We could really use the help..."

Standing in the middle of his room, Rinoa's hand was suddenly perched on her hip, and a familiar expression of dissatisfaction lit her eyes. "If you remember, Squall, I'm on level 86 due to a certain excursion across the Island Closest to Hell. You remember that one?" she prompted, when he didn't respond immediately, her voice rising in pitch with each word. "The one where you dragged me out of the Ragnarok by throwing me over your shoulder, then dumped me on the ground in front of a T-rex and told me to grow up?"

Oh. Apparently, Squall realised, he had been wrong when he'd supposed she'd gotten over that one... Despite the fact that she would have been killed in the first five minutes in Ultimecia's castle without it... But that was an argument he could safely save for another day. "Rinoa..."  
"Don't start, Squall. You want to encourage a bunch of people who don't know any better to risk their lives, then fine. But you have no right to ask me to go up against any more monsters." Seeing he was unmoved by her antics, Rinoa changed tactics, her voice becoming plaintive, with an edge of world-weariness. "I want to move on from the fighting and have a normal life. I want to go shopping and save up for a nice car, like any other eighteen-year-old, not spend my days casting Curagas and hoping the gashes on my arms and legs don't leave scars."

The expression on Squall's face was unreadable. "Would you mind sharing some of your spells with SeeD?" he asked softly. "Some of the newer guys could use a little head-start."

That seemed to catch her by surprise. "Why don't you share your magic with them?"

"I already have. And Zell, Irvine and Selphie are doing so as we speak."

"Well then I'm sure they have everything they need," Rinoa pointed out, as if it was completely obvious. "And you can pick up new spells in a flash once you get on the field. Where do you think I'd get new spells from if I gave them all away?"

In the split second that it took Rinoa's refusal to register, Squall thanked the gods once again for his ability to appear utterly and completely indifferent. Had he possessed even slightly less self-control, he would have been using a Life spell on Rinoa by now. For a heartbeat, he considered pointing out the fact that most of Rinoa's spells had been drawn by Zell or Quistis in the first place. Rinoa's stats had never been very conducive to efficient Draws. But that wasn't really the point.

By all visible indicators, Squall was as calm as a spring day. In a quick mental check, he noted in passing that his heart rate, breathing, muscle tension and posture all remained exactly as they had been before Rinoa spoke. But below the surface, rage was the only possible option. A competent fighter had just refused to lend help to one of her comrades. If anyone ended up getting injured – or Hyne forbid, killed – as a result, there would be hell to pay.

What might have happened next, though, was forever confined to speculation, as at that moment the door to Squall's quarters slid open and Zell stepped into the room, pulling up short when he saw Rinoa standing beside Squall's bed. "Oh, hey... sorry, Rinoa, I didn't know you were here. Um... should I come back...?" He pointed vaguely at the door, adding "You did say 2200 hours..." when Squall didn't reply.

Squall shook his head, as if dragging himself out of a daze. "No, that's fine." He glanced at Rinoa. "Zell and I have to sort out some of the details for tomorrow, so..."

Rinoa looked surprised for a moment, then recovered her poise nicely. "Oh, okay." She stepped in close to Squall, tilting his head up and placing a tender kiss on his forehead. "I'll see you in the morning then." There was no response, just a minute tilt of his head, and a steady, knowing patience. "Good night, Squall. Zell." She sashayed out of the room, and the door hissed quietly closed behind her.

"So..." Zell asked, hopping neatly into a cross-legged position on the end of Squall's bed. "What did you want to see me about?"

Gah! I finally finished this blasted chapter! Uhrg! Writer's block is a bad bad thing. My muses have just spent 3 months refusing to talk to me! Aaarrgghh. I have proof-read this chapter, but I'm also kind of keen to see the back of the damn thing, so I may not have been terribly thorough... Sorry.

Feedback is tasty. So are gingerbread cookies. Mmmm... gingerbread...

Thanks for the reviews, people. It's been a while since I wrote anything, so I've forgotten which were the latest reviews, so I won't reply to them individually, but thank you all!!

Laith is an Arabic name which means Lion. You can read as much, or as little into that as you like... snerk.


End file.
